


Queens of Fluff and Angst

by Shadow_Ravena



Category: Aftertale (webcomic), Lucidia (Webcomic), MommaCQ(webcomic), Worldview (Webcomic)
Genre: Child Abuse, Depression, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, One Shot, One Shot Collection, Short One Shot, Suicidal Thoughts, Verbal Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2019-09-07 05:04:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 20,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16847674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadow_Ravena/pseuds/Shadow_Ravena
Summary: This here is a collection of short-stories relating to the wonderful artists, CrayonQueen and AlainaPrana!Check them out here: https://loverofpiggies.tumblr.com/ andhttps://www.deviantart.com/alainaprana/ here!Also featuring kid!Decans by https://www.deviantart.com/little-noko !





	1. Not Enough

Characters: Zigzag

Work: Worldview

Rated G, no warnings needed

 

“Oh, your father is Doctor Fresh?” a day care mom asked.

Ziggy nodded excitedly. “Yep yep! He’s the best!”

“He’s so brilliant!” she went. “So smart, and so so dedicated! I bet you’ll be just like him when you grow up,” she said, patting Zig’s head.

Ziggy beamed up at her.  _I'mma be just like Daddy!_

Zigzag stared at his computer screen, face blank. Before him was a program that refused to work for the last week.  _I bet Da-_  he cut himself off with a harsh headshake. Get back to work.

“Doctor Fresh Queen is your father, correct?” a teacher asked, looking over his spectacles at Ziggy.

“Yes?” Ziggy replied, wondering how this related to his failed essay.

The teacher shook his head. “I would have expected better from his son. I am very disappointed,” he said, making Ziggy bow his head.

.An alarm chimed on a phone. Zigzag looked over, and tiredly realized it was morning. He’d been awake all night, and had made zero progress. _I really am a fai-_ He shook his head again, and tiredly trooped to bed.

“So you’re Dr. Fresh’s son?” a fellow graduate’s mother asked. Zigzag nodded, and opened his mouth to speak, when she continued on excitedly, “He’s amazing! Inventing soul transfusions as a kid, becoming a doctor, all the research he’s done! Why, when my son was his age, he was still…” the woman prattled on, as Zigzag’s face grew more and more still. This was  _his_  day, wasn’t it…?

Zigzag didn’t as much sleep as doze fitfully, his mind fixed on the code that just wouldn’t be fixed.  _So much for being talented_ … he thought, before sighing and getting up to work again.

“So you’re Dr. Fresh’s son?” a doctor asked, causing Zigzag’s heart to sink.

“Yes,” he replied hesitantly. “Do you know him?”

The doctor laughed. “Oh nono,” he said. “I’ve only read his work, it is simply fascinating. And he published it so young! He truly was a child protegee.”

Zigzag nodded mutely… where was this going?

“He accomplished so much so young…” the doctor said wistfully, checking Zig’s breathing. “So what do you do?” he asked.

“I’m an independent programmer,” Zigzag replied proudly. “I do commissions for many different people-”

“Couldn’t cut it at a real job?” the doctor interrupted. “Shame. I would have expected more from someone with such brilliant genes.

Zigzag opened his mouth to object, then fell silent. 

_They were right_ , Zigzag thought, settling back into his computer chair. He sighed and rubbed his eyesockets as he looked back over at his program.  _I’m just…_

_Not Enough._


	2. FreshxDeccy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Characters: Fresh (MommaCQ), Decans (MommaCQ)
> 
> Warnings: none. You'll see.

 

“…winning love by daylight~!”

The song wafted from the television, which cast a warm, blue glow on the couch, on which snuggled two boys.

They leaned their skulls together gently, a warm, fuzzy blanket enveloping the two and drawing them close.

The shorter skeleton snuggled up closer to the taller one, and looked up at him and murmured, “C-can you pass the juice Fresh?”

Fresh paused from talking a mouthful of warm, buttery popcorn, and glanced over at the younger skeleton. “Sure Deccy-bro,” he said, eating the handful and reaching for his pouch. He chewed the popcorn slowly, gently, imagining-

He reached into his pouch and pulled out juice box, gingerly popping the hole with the straw, before turning to look at Decans.

He paused, watching how the light flickered over his smooth, warm skull; the slight flush on his face. Fresh swallowed the last of the liquid in his mouth, and leaned his skull down towards Decans..

…and turned to face the camera. “No dude. Just no.”

Slowly the living room faded, replaced by a neon swirl of colors. Fresh pressed his palms together and pointed at the reader, taking a deep breathe.

“First of all yo, we kids, like young kids, ya dig? We aint no wiggidy-wag rad adults yo. See this sorta stuff is for adults, not little kids! That how you all up and get jailed yo! It’s just unrad creepiness! Shipping kids is wrong, kay dudes? And doing anything-“ he glanced at Decans- “physical? That’s just- no. Just no brah. We kids. We can’t "consent”. It’s just creepy brah! So lay off the creep, kay?

“Second of all, we friends! We the besty-bros to ever exist yo! We’re like brothas from another motha! So don’t go and ruinin’ that, kay? We like each other, but not like that yo! Peeps can just be friends, ya know? Friends are totes the raddest peeps around! So don’t go all makin’ stuff romantic and shed, kay? Bro I just dun get it, this shippin’ stuff. Let us to be friendy-froes, bros, ya dig?

“Third all, r creators all up and made clear they ain’t cool with this! So let’s respect their wishes, hey? Ma Alaina apparently thinks Im promised to her or somethin’? And otha me is just a flirt? But hey Decans, Decans he’s got Vibe! His one true love and all! And Noko really don’t like people messin’ with that, or Decans, ya know? Course all this promisin’ stuff is for when we adults! But our creators really dun wanna shipped, kay? So respect their wishes yo, they made us! We their kids! Would ya ship your friends kids? No? Then dun ship us!”

He took a deep breathe, and said, “Alrighty bros let’s recap. One, it’s creepy and weird to have kids doing un-kid things! Two, friends can be just friends and that’s rad! Three, respect our creator’s wishes- they made us after all!”

The neon mess started to fade, and Fresh handed the juice-box to Decans. “Thanks Fresh,” he muttered, taking a sip.

“No problem bro,” Fresh said, before turning back to watch his favorite show.


	3. Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freshuary Day 15: Who would Fresh consider family?
> 
> Characters: Fresh (Lucidia)
> 
> Warnings: None

Fresh was walking around, whistling a jaunty little tune. He didn’t have much on his mind that fine spring day, just wanderin’ round having a rad time.

Fresh slowed as he came across a playground. With a happy grin, he headed over. He might be a bit  _big_  for it, he likes the swings and besides, what did he care? 

He quickly reached the swings and started swinging happily, flying high in the air. He had to keep his feet up to keep from hitting the ground, but what did it matter? He was having a tote rad time.

As he swung, he overheard a conversation between a mother and her child. He didn’t mean to eavesdrop- that was completely unradical- but he was kinda stuck in place.

“CIndy,  _how_  many times have I told you not to go off the ground? You’re too delicate, you’ll get yourself hurt!” the mom scolded.

“But Mooom,” Cindy replied. “ _Everyone else_  gets to do it, why can’t I? Why do I have to be different?”

 _Different, huh? Know the feelin brah,_  Fresh thought.

“You’re sick, that’s why. We’ve been  _over_  this. You can’t risk falling and hurting yourself!”

“I’ll be careful-” Cindy started, but her mother cut her off.

“I said no, Cindy. I’m your mother, I know better than you.” 

Even she must have heard how that sounded, for she kneeled down and looked the little girl in the eye. “Sweetie, I just don’t want you to get hurt, okay? I don’t know what I’d do if you were. I know you want to play. But you need to stay safe, okay?”

“Okay mom…” Cindy said, head low. Her mom pulled her into a hug, before Cindy pulled away and went off to swing. She ignored Fresh- glancing at him but not speaking.  _Girl knows her P S As, right-on,”_ Fresh thought.

He couldn’t help but think about the scene he had witnessed. The mother had been so protective of her child, almost aggressively so. She didn’t care about the child’s opinion of her, whether ot not her comment was prudent or safe. She just cared about protecting her.

It was something… Fresh had never known.

Everyone round him tried to kill him, if they had cause to. So he ensured they never had cause to. Smile and laugh, joke and grin; and never, never, let anyone in.

He never cared about anyone like that. Couldn’t afford to. Protecting someone? He had to protect himself. Caring for another? Asking for trouble. For danger. If he all up and tried to act the way that mother had- he’d wind up dead, sooner rather than later. Either the person would turn on him, or more likely, he’d get himself killed trying to help them. Maybe not directly. A little carelessness. A little distraction. But any distraction, at the wrong moment? Would be fatal. 

He couldn’t have a ‘family.’ Not when he still had to run.

Fresh slowed down his swinging, his thoughts turning the sunlight sour. He kicked around a little, glanced over the kid. She studiously avoided looking at him, and the mother watched him like a hawk. Fresh had to grin at that- a sick, choking grin. That was the other problem with families- they were so up and overprotective that if he tried to get close, he’d be in for a world of pain. Few liked the kind of creature he was- and fewer were any kind of sane. 

Even if he wanted to be close to someone like that- there wasn’t anyone he could trust. 

Fresh walked off, his head a little lower than normal, his thoughts a little darker. He’d… never known what it was like, to be protected and cared for. Not  _really_. Not like that. And he knew- likely?- he never would be. 

He didn’t care. He  _couldn’t_  care. Yet somehow- he felt empty, all the same.

There was no one to walk with him, no one to talk with him. He might make “friends” and hang out with them more often than others, but he knew he couldn’t trust them, not  _really._ He knew that, push come to shove, they wouldn’t come. Because he wouldn’t, either. They were just little puppets on a string, part of his game. And maybe he could change that. But it was nothing but risk. So why bother? So he was alone. Why… why would he care?

So fresh walked off, eventually singing his merry tune. And, as he always had and always would- 

He Walked Alone.

 

Fresh by [@loverofpiggies](https://tmblr.co/mZjiR0q2bsZdvcGVHj-3sVg)

Freshuary by [@feth](https://tmblr.co/mv1HjdDYtwXankxgUt08COQ)


	4. Memory Lane

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freshuary Day 14: Valentine
> 
> Characters: Fresh (ludicia), Alainaprana (tumblr)
> 
> Relationships: M/F
> 
> Warnings: None

Fresh stood outside a house, nervously sweating and trying- and failing- to hide it. Under his cap his skull was sleek, and he kept swallowing nervously.

“Brah.  _Brah_. Get it together man. It’s just a knock, no big dang deal,” Fresh muttered to himself. Yet… he couldn’t get his feet to move. He kept twitching with his bag of stuff- he now considered the bag a  _wonderful_  idea with how he kept fiddling with it- and tried tried to calm down.  _Tried_. 

Part of him wished he hadn’t ever developed  _any_  kind of emotions, period. He wasn’t  _suppose_ to! He was supposed to just be a radtastic brah for all existence. But… uh. Things hadn’t gone as planned.

Fresh zoned out a little, remembering the first time… he’d really felt something. For… her. For Alaina.

It had been a normal day, otherwise an uneventful one. Fresh had been out shopping for once, though with his- lack of- taste, he’d gravitated towards sweets cause of their bright, rad colors. He’d just left the candy store with an assortment of neon colored, teeth destroyer goods, when he bumped into her. 

Or her into him, whichever is most accurate. He’d been looking through his bag of goodies, she had been looking through her bag of fabrics. Whatever the case, they smacked into each other and had been sent flying- as had their stuff.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” she said, scrambling to pick up the fallen candies by her.

“Brah,  _I’m_  sorry, it’s totes unfresh to not watch where I’m heading,” Fresh replied, trying to pick up and stack some of the fabric by him. He looked over and quickly took stock of who exactly he had run into-  a pretty girl with brown hair and blue eyes, wearing rainbow sweater, blue jeans, and a pair of glasses. Fortunately neither of their glasses had fallen off in the crash, just their purchases.

They realized after a second whose stuff they were holding. “Um, where’d your bag for these go?” the pretty girl asked. Fresh looked around, and quickly grabbed it for her. “Here ya go broskie. Where ya what these tote rad threads?”

“My bag- oh, here,” Alaina said, grabbing her discarded bag. They put the respective items in the bags, and talked a little while they did. 

Fresh started it off. “Rad colors dudette. Whatcha using them for?”

“Making plushies!” the girl replied excitedly. Then more calmly, “I make plushies and pins and such to sell at conventions- that’s my job.” She looked at his assortment of candy and said, “Whoa, that’s a lot of candy! Having a party or something - what is your name?”

“Fresh my gal,” Fresh replied, shooting off his finger guns. The girl had to smile at that, a grin Fresh returned, mouth stretched wide. “Nah, I just like the look of them- rainbow goodness in a bag brah. Plushies huh? Interesting brah! Always cool to hear what others do and stuff, specially if includes radtastic colors like these. Cool cool- ah brah, I didn’t catch ya name.”

“Alaina. Alaina Prana- nice to meet you,” Alaina said, “Fresh was it? Cool name. Suits you.” Fresh looked away at that comment, then turned his head back with a rather puzzled expression. Alaina continued on, “Candy is rather colorful! I suppose that’s a bit much to eat, but whatever suits you.”

“Nice to meet ya too browskie,” he replied automatically, a preoccupied look on his face. He’d finished bagging his stuff and stood up again. “Hey… um. Where ya headin next? You seem to have your hands full.” It was true, Alaina had an armload of bugs, but …Fresh didn’t quite believe what he heard himself saying. He didn’t  _care,_  he had nothing to  _gain_ … why was he asking?

 _Might’s well make friends with a friendly human,_  he rational zed.  _No sense not doing so, right?_

Alaina looked a little surprise by the question. “Home? I have to get back to work.”

“Oh…” Fresh said lamely. He fiddled a bit before saying, “Guess I’ll catch ya later homeslice!” before walking off… though he did glass at the first reflective object in sight to catch Alumina’s reaction. She just looked… confused. 

Fresh was confused to… but more about his behavior. And his soul giving an irregular beat. “Too much sugar brah…” he muttered.

* * *

That was a few years ago. Since then, Fresh kept on bumping into Alaina, always at the same mall. At first he excused it as needing something or another from the store… and eventually gave up and admitted he was trying to run into her.

He started to notice little things- that she always tried to carry too much, always wore fan stuff, always talked about her work passionately. He used it as an excuse to start conversations- asking about this shirt or that new collection of fabric, or why she always bought that specific blue fleece, or  _what_  that faux-pink fur could be for. Alaina seemed a bit confused- or suspicious- at first, but she loved to talk about her work. 

She also wasn’t quite as blind as he was. But… she didn’t  _object_  either. Fresh was nice- if a bit strange at times. She noticed that he oddly seemed to change appearance every now and again, but never asked- it seemed rude. Besides… if he trusted her, he’d tell her. It would be better that way.

Fresh, in the background, was slowly moving along his journey of discovering “emotions.” Fear, anger, sadness, true friendship… they overwhelmed him and made him furious, afraid. He wasn’t  _suppose TO DEAL WITH THIS._

Though maybe that’s why he kept on running into Alaina. Because  while he felt… odd… around her, he didn’t feel afraid. She was happy-go-lucky and kind and always energetic. He could immerse himself in whatever she was talking about, and feel his soul get lighter for it.

So he started asking her out. Not on a date- but to grab coffee. Visit this cool exhibit in town. A con- though that was more him going to see her there. He always bought something- little things he couldn’t quite get rid of. Well, it wasn’t any effort to keep them… so no big deal, right?

Alaina noticed, but she eventually decided that if Fresh wanted to be her friend, she’d let him. He was funny and cool and much more caring than he really realized at times. So they went out, as friends, for a good year or so. She wondered if he’d ever decide for himself what he felt, but she wouldn’t push it.

Fresh couldn’t decide. He  _didn’t udnerstand_ … and he didn’t  _want_  to. Emotions weren’t his thing… and he didn’t want to care. Caring was a liability. So as long as he  _didn’t care_ , he could stay around Alaina and things would be cool.

Even to himself that sounded ridiculous but he forced himself to ignore it. 

Then he found himself… noticing stuff more. He started to notice what Alaina looked like- the particular way she parted her hair, the way her clothes sometimes reflected her mood, the way she squee’d when she was excited and got massively flustered if someone did something kind for her. Fresh got to see that a few times- and every time it brought a real smile to his face. He’d started to notice little things while traveling, things she’d like. A Russia charm, a pair of rainbow elbow-gloves, an authentic AC hoodie. They were just little things- and he liked seeing her smile. Spreading good vibes was his thing, after all.

…no one was fooled.

Eventually, Fresh had to face himself on this. He… liked… Alaina. As much as he knew what that word meant. He liked the way she smiled, the way she laughed. He liked making that happen. He… wanted to see that. For a long, long, time.

He didn’t know what to call this emotion, and he decided he didn’t care. He… just didn’t want it to end. Maybe it was unsafe. But he always felt safe around her. And… despite knowing him for years, had never once threatened him. Never made a comment about his “condition”. Maybe… this one… he could trust?

He was willing to try.

So on Valentine’s day, he asked her out, for reals. He was as flippant as always, making light of the statement… but his rainbow blush gave him away. Alaina was charitable enough to pretend to not see it and off they went. They went out to see a movie. Fresh had checked all the different reviewer sites, and talked to several people who’d seen the movie, making  _sure_  he picked a good one. Didn’t want to disappoint ‘laina after all.

They’d watched the film, and to Fresh’s enormous relief, Alaina seemed to enjoy it. They grabbed food afterwards, and Alaina kept chatting about this or that in the film, while Fresh nodded absentmindedly. He always looked a bit out of it cause of the glasses, but now he looked positively in dream land.

“Uh, Fresh, you there buddy?” Alaina asked.

Fresh nodded slowly, and said, “You were talkin’ bout how the theme was all wacked and stuff brah, I heard ya.”

“…oh” Alaina replied. The conversation lapsed into silence… which quickly turned uncomfortable. Fresh kept… staring. He always did that a little, but now it was getting weird.

Fresh for his part was only half aware of it. He was paying attention to Alaina to be sure, but not himself at all- hence why he hadn’t moved for the last ten minutes.  _That_  part of his mind was trying to come up with what, exactly, to say.

“Fresh…?” Alaina said finally, breaking the silence.

That jolted Fresh into sitting up. “Uh, whats up browskie…” he rambled, before shaking his head to clear it. “Ya know what brah, let me start over. Alaina,” he said, turning more serious, “I… ‘ve playing ya. I’ve just been staying ‘round cause I feel better that way, ya dig? That’s what I do brah- I find cool, radical peeps and hand round then cause it makes mah happier.”

“So-” Alaina interrupted, but Fresh raised his hand to stop her.

“Let me speak mah piece brah. That’s what I done, and I ain’t gunna make excuses or nothin’ like that. But I will say, Alaina…

“I… don’t wanna just hang round ya cause it makes me happy. I wanna around cause it makes  _you_  happy… if you like it. You dig? I- want to make ya happy. For reals.  But- I dunno- would that make ya happy…or…” Fresh looked away, not wanting to see Alaina’s expression in case… she said no. The logical part of his brain knew he was being ridiculous. The logical part had been told to sit down and shut up for the entity of this though, so Fresh got no help there.

He looked back when Alaina grabbed his hands. He looked over at her slowly, and saw that she was smiling- and… blushing a little? No, a trick of the light. His thoughts got interrupted by her speaking though.

“Fresh, if I didn’t like being around you, I wouldn’t have stayed around. Now come on,” she said, lightly punching his shoulder. “Where’s my happy radtastic dude?”

Fresh stared for a second, before a  _massive_  smile broke across his face… and he started laughing. Laughing because he’d been so worried, laughing because the pressure was gone now, laughing because… he was happy. This… this was happy. He liked it. His laughter turned out to be infectious, as Alaina started laughing along as well, and everyone wondered what the silly couple had thought of.

* * *

Now a year later, Fresh was  _still_  nervous visiting Alaina. But it wasn’t like he hadn’t been here before, many times. Alaina liked her cozy little home, adn Fresh could see why. He come over every now again, sometimes to have dinner, sometimes to just goof off and talk. He still got flustered at times, but Alaina always brought him back down to earth. He still got her little trinkets and gifts, and she still rambled on about fandoms and plushies. They just… clicked. And always smiled when they were around each other.

Fresh sighed, shook himself out. “Back to Earth buddy, ya can’t keep her waiting.” Alaina had been expecting him sometime- they were going to stay in this time, make a meal together, just enjoy the evening. Not as flashy, but cozier. Sweeter that way.

With one last deep breathe, Fresh walked up to the door and knocked. Almost immediately he heard someone on the other side, and Alaina opened the door. “Fresh! Hello! Happy Anniversary!”

“Happy Anniversary Alaina,” Fresh said, smiling dopily.He paused, blinked, then remember what he had. “Oh, sweetheart, I got ya something… well,  _made…”_ he dug into his bag, and pulled out a plush doll. It was dressed in neon greens and purples- it was Zigzag, from Alaina’s popular webcomic. It had taken him… weeks?… to make it, but it had been worth it.

Alaina’s face lit up. “You  _made_  this? Thank you!” she said, hugging him tight. Fresh frozen for a second, then returned the hug. He loved hugs- and this one he didn’t want to break. Alaina actually broke it first, pulling back.

“How’d you do it? Did you use that sewing trick I showed you awhile back- oh, come in out of the doorway! What did you do this week…” Alaina trailed on, walking back into her house. Fresh shook his head, then honestly smiled. This place… 

it really felt like home.

* * *

Fresh by [@loverofpiggies](https://tmblr.co/mZjiR0q2bsZdvcGVHj-3sVg)

Freshuary by [@feth](https://tmblr.co/mv1HjdDYtwXankxgUt08COQ)

Zigzag and herself by [@alainaprana](https://tmblr.co/mFlrgV7hl6r-4tJKmZ_HP4A)


	5. Why Do You Live?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freshuary Day 13: Fresh meet’s one of his parasites
> 
> Since I have my own parasite, I’ll be using it- Lurker.
> 
> Characters: Lurker, Fresh (Lucidia)
> 
> Warnings: depression

 

Lurker sat on it’s sidewalk as usual, when it caught sight of something strange. A… skeleton… in neon clothing. Wearing gaudy glasses to boot… Lurker could feel it’s soul grow cold. So….  _it_  had arrived. But what did it want?

Fresh was just strolling along the street, whistling like always, not a care in the world. Well. Not like it usually cared. But today was a particularly lax, care-free day. Fresh was just exploring the different worlds, and had stumbled on this one at random. It was a dreary place- totally not-fresh. A grey city, made worse by the overcast skies. He was the brightest thing there, by far. 

Fresh just shrugged- he didn’t like it, but it didn’t bother him none. Besides, the empty city street was a great skateboarding place. He pulled out his board and started to do tricks.

Lurker watched the skeleton skate around- odd. It- he? didn’t seem to have noticed its presence. Lurker internally debated between just melting into the wall, trying to walk off, or… going up to the skeleton and talking to him. 

Lurker shifted around a bit- put it’s journal back in it’s hoodie pocket, changed to a kneeling position. If it had to run, it could. And now it seemed like that might be an option- the skeleton had noticed it move.

Fresh had seen the human earlier, but hadn’t paid it any mind. Looked like a bum- dirty hoodie, dirty jeans, dirty beanie, just sitting on the sidewalk doing nothing. Its- her?- movement had caught his attention though, and as Fresh studied her more carefully, he noticed her sunglasses. On a cloudy day. Fresh narrowed his eyes, and slowed down his skating. Now that he focused on it… yes. This “human” wasn’t one at all.

Lurker noticed the slowness, and decided to make the first move. Running was always an option- but just leaving wasn’t, anymore. Not when he had noticed it. But if  _he_  was here… it might as well ask some questions.

Lurker got up slowly and walked towards the skeleton. “New here? Not seen colors like that before. What brings ya here?”

Fresh was somewhat surprised at the stranger’s forwardness. But he grinned, and called back, “Ya, I’m new to this ‘hood and ready to bring all my rad fresh vibes to the dingy-dank little town.” He twirled around on his skateboard just to prove his point, and said, “If peeps look as glum as you I think ya’ll could use some of my radness.”

Lurker stopped a few feet away from Fresh, then started walking behind to the other wall. As it walked, it said, “Most dress better than a homeless person- most have more reasons to smile. You smile a lot there, don’t you? Why?”

Fresh turned around to keep the guy in view- this “human” wasn’t particularly good at being subtle. Still, Fresh wasn’t sure why it preferred one wall or another… studying the building didn’t offer any hints. It was just a blank brick wall, like the rest of the street. He paused from studying the wall to look back over at the human, and replied, “Why not smile brah? The sun is shining- well somewhere I’m sure- and is life is dig dong diddly good. Why be all down in the dumps when ya can smile and be happy, be all fresh like me.”

“…Fresh. Odd choice of wording…” Lurker muttered to itself. It reached the wall and leaned back on it, watching the skeleton. Louder, it said, “ _Why_  smile. Why be happy? Why live life at all? Tell me skeleton- why do you live? What reason do you have to survive?”

Lurker was nothing if not blunt- and idiotic. It’s gut told it this was their… owner, progenitor, master?… and it wanted answers. Why did it survive. Why did  _any_  of us survive. It might die for this- every instinct in it said to  _run_. But Lurker ignored it’s panic. If  _anything_  could answer it’s question- it was this thing.

Fresh just watched the human, head tilted slightly, trademark smile still on. “Whoa, heavy dude. Ya need to lighten up a little, take a new outlook on life, ya dig?”

Lurker just chuckled humorlessly. “Lighten up. With death around the corner, every minute of every day. When life isn’t guaranteed, or even deserved. Light. No. And you didn’t answer the question,” it said, staring at Fresh, unblinking.

Fresh’s smile dropped. What  _was_  this one doing? Most parasites tried to run away by now, or tried to hurt him, or tried to beg for their lives. This one… didn’t make sense. It didn’t seem to care about survival at all… what, was it broken or something?

He walked closer Lurker, and said, “Yo, you go around to all strangers like this and ask all these unrad questions brah? Stranger danger and all that, ya know.”

“You’re not a stranger,” Lurker said quietly. “Don’t pretend.”

Any facade of Fresh dropped at that statement. He was starting to get a little annoyed at this…  _thing_ … and it’s weird behavior. “Hey kid. If ya know me, then you know not to play with me, you dig?” His eye started to flare up purple a bit when he said that, and his smile returned- the creepy one.

Lurker just… shrugged. “Not playing. Asking an honest question.  _Why do you live?”_ If the skeleton refused to answer, it would just leave. But it wasn’t going to be intimidated into backing down.

Fresh just… stared at the human, before starting to chuckle. “Got a death wish buddy?” 

Lurker shrugged again. “Living… dying… doesn’t matter. Creatures like me… shouldn’t exist anyways. I just want to know- why do people choose to live. That’s all. So tell me,  _parasite…_ why do you live?”

Fresh just started to laugh riotously. “That’s the most wigged-wacked thing I heard all day! You got a couple screws loose little guy?” He calmed down quickly and walked forward again. “Okay brah, how bout we trade. Ya tell me why ya diddle-dong  _care_  so much ‘bout it and I’ll answer, deal?”

“Deal,” Lurker said. It noted that Fresh was only a few feet away now, but it didn’t shift- except to lean farther into the wall. “She… asked me that. Why do people live. Why did  _I_  live. I couldn’t answer. She… wanted to know… more than anything in the world. I couldn’t answer… then. So I’ll keep walking, keep asking… until I find out why.” Lurker had zoned off a little, but now it shook it’s head and said, “Your turn.”

Fresh just shook his head at that response. “That one wack reason brah. One more question for ya- whatcha gonna do when you find it?”

“Stop wasting precious lives,” Lurker said automatically. Then it glared at the other and said, “Your. Turn. Or are you a liar as well?”

“I ain’t no liar brah, that’s totes unfresh,” Fresh replied equally automatically. It was… just as big a lie. He grunted at Lurker’s comment, muttered, “Sure is instant… fine brah. But first-  _stay still_. Wouldn’t be nice to run off, would it brah?”

Lurker felt it’s body seize up up at the command- it tested it, and found to it’s shock that it  _couldn’t_  move. What… the other’s power? Lurker did get nervous at that, but it’s attention was broken by the skeleton.

“It’s like this brah. I don’t want to die. Simple, huh? I like being alive. I like being my totally rad self,” Fresh said, throwing his hands out wide. “It’s great being me! And death? Brah the idea just isn’t appealing. Why’d I want to die? No broskie does. So I just go ‘round, spreading my rad vibes. But ya- ya killing my groove, dude. And that just won’t do.” Fresh walked forward till he was face-to-face with the frozen Lurker, and planted his hand next to Lurker’s head, grinning menacingly.

“Some do,” Lurker said. Fresh looked confused, so it continued. “Some want to die. She did. That’s why… she never understood. Fear of death…? That’s your reason…?” Lurker sighed as much as it could. “I… had hoped for something… else. Some reason to live, not just a reason to not live.”

“Brah… don’t get your hopes up falsely like that. But it don’t diddly matter though,” Fresh said, smiling evilly. He pulled back, and wound his arm back- killing a human wasn’t easy, but this one couldn’t move. He started to swing, when suddenly, the human fell  _through_  the wall!

Lurker had been disappointing, but with it’s answer had turned it’s thoughts entirely to escape. The master had said to  _stay still_ … but, well. It hadn’t  _moved_ … just made it’s body intangible. Besides.

It needed an answer. A  _real_  answer. And it wouldn’t rest till it found one.

Lurker found that, after a few minutes, the pseudo-paralysis wore off. As soon as it did, Lurker got up and started sprinting away. The building was empty- abandoned. It had doors only on the  _other_  street. it needed to get there  _first_  and get away- as many miles as it could. It would be a long run, but. It had no other choice.

Outside, Fresh smiled grimly. It had wondered what was special about the building- now it noticed the distinct lack of windows or walls. Normally, parasites tries to move  _towards_  though, so Fresh hadn’t been looking for their  _absence_. 

It internally debated chasing after the parasite, but eventually decided against it. It would take hours… days… and the parasite had a lead. Besides, and more importantly. It wanted to die already. Something else would finish it off. Or it would finish itself off like it mentioned. How  _was_  it one of his anyways…

Of course, if Fresh found it again, the parasite would die. But no sense bothering with something… so stupid. There were bigger threats. For now, Fresh had other, more important things to do, than chase down a suicidal ghost.

* * *

Fresh by [@loverofpiggies](https://tmblr.co/mZjiR0q2bsZdvcGVHj-3sVg)

Freshuary and the original fresh parasites by [@feth](https://tmblr.co/mv1HjdDYtwXankxgUt08COQ)

Lurker by me


	6. I Don't Understand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freshuary Day 11: What’s a mother to do with her child?
> 
> Characters: Alainaprana (MommaCQ), Fresh (MommaCQ)
> 
> Warnings: None

“I… don’t understand,” Fresh said slowly. “Why… would anyone… be all up and mad at their kid? For something they can’t help?”

Alaina sighed and rubbed her head. How to explain… well. There wasn’t really a way to. She started slowly. “Sometimes… parents say things… they don’t really mean. Or kids hear things out-of-context-”

“Ma. I’ pretty sure I heard it all right. They were fighting over stuff. Saying Deccys at fault,” Fresh said, interrupted. Then his eyes widened and he added, “Sorry ma, didn’t mean to be all rude and interrupt ya, that’s totes not cool.”

“Hrmmm. Just don’t do it again, okay?”

“Right ma,” Fresh replied quickly. 

He paused, waiting to see if Alaina would continued. When she didn’t, he asked, “Ma. I totally get it if ya can’t comment on someone else- if that the case, then I’ll drop it. Wouldn’t want to be all un-cool and pryin and all that jazz. But I- don’t know if ma question is, iz all.”

“…” Alaina had somewhat hoped Fresh would drop it, though he rarely ever did, if something confused him. “…it isn’t polite to gossip.”

“Right. Coolio,” Fresh responded. Then he paused and added, “But just… like in a general situation. Why’d someone be blamed for being sick? They can’t up and help that.”

Alaina sighed. “I’m not sure dear… people do things for different reasons.”

“But- blamin’ someone. Ain’t reasonable,” Fresh replied, his brow knit.

Privately Alaina agreed. She had her own sick child, and wouldn’t ever blame them for their condition. But what to say… “…sometimes… it’s easier to blame someone for an uncontrollable situation… than just accepting it.”

“But that all up and hurts peeps. Like, I don’t care- I can’t. But I see Deccy dec- he cares. Hurting peeps is all unrad yo, even I know tat. So why?”

“Fresh. Didn’t I just say not to talk about others?” Alaina said, seriously.

Fresh muttered a quiet apology, then fell silent. He didn’t understand- he  _didn’t_. It didn’t make any _sense_. Why… would people hurt each other… 

Error hurt him, all the time. Bullies hurt peeps too. He knew that. He didn’t  _understand_  that. It didn’t make  _sense_. What did they  _gain_  from it? Why would they  _do_  it? 

“…Does it feel good? To hurt others?” Fresh asked. He knew it was… an odd question. Probably not something good to ask, something right. But it didn’t make sense otherwise. 

Alaina hitched her breathe, not sure how to respond. She couldn’t lie and say “no.” But it wasn’t right to say “yes” either. “Some… people,” she started, carefully, “seem to hurt others, for their own reasons. But not everyone does it,” she said, looking Fresh in the face. “It’s not considered normal, or… acceptable. But sometimes… people’s emotions… get the better of them.”

“Emotions, huh?” Fresh said. He frowned, and said to himself, “Why do peeps like them anyways? They just cause people to act all unrad.”

“Fresh…” Alaina said, reaching out to put a hand on his shoulder. 

Fresh just turned away before she could, then re-activated his trademark smile. “Thanks for answering my question yo. Imma go check on Geno, kay? Make sure he’s okay.”

“…Okay..” Alaina said, and Fresh walked out of the room. She sighed again, debating calling him back. She didn’t want him to associate emotions with negativity, but they had had that discussion many times before. 

Fresh would understand, one day. At least, she could only hope so.

* * *

Fresh by @loverofpiggies, Decans by [@little-noko](https://tmblr.co/mnXspNFlGds2r4eilvDA-yw), Alaina is @alainaprana

Freshuary by [@feth](https://tmblr.co/mv1HjdDYtwXankxgUt08COQ)


	7. Sorry!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freshuary Day 11: Geno, Error, and Fresh all hang out.
> 
> Characters: Fresh (Lucidia), Error (Lucidia), Geno!Sans (Aftertale- Undertale AU)
> 
> Warnings: None

##  _Location: The Save Screen, before the events of Aftertale._

 

_“_ Why the  **funk**  are we here here again? And quit doing that you  **radhole**!” Error said. The agitated black-and-blue skeleton paced around the dark “room” he was in- a room far,  _far,_ to similar to his antivoid for his liking.

“Relax brah, we’re just paying ol’ Geno here a radtastic visit is all!” Fresh said, smiling plastered on as usual. He was heeling around the “void”, watching Error to make sure he didn’t start something. “That dang depressed little dude needs some happy-wacky good vibes, ya dig?” He looked over at Geno when he said this, but Geno just looked away.

“Got tired of running Fresh? Got bored of your antivoid Error?” Geno asked, quietly. “Hey. Wanna swap? You can watch the world end, over and over again. I’ll play destroyer of worlds. It’d be fun,” he finished a red glint in his eye. 

Then he leaned back and started laughing. “Maybe I’m getting a little soft in the skull after all! A game might bring the life back to me. Whatcha bring?”

Fresh just smiled and did his finger-guns. “Right on bro! Games are the spice of the life, making it totes awesome sauce mcgee. And our game for the day he,” he said, twirling around dramatically before pulling out “Sorry!”

“That stupid  **funking**  game, are you kidding me?!” Error said, still pacing around and now throwing his hands around. “That thing is  **radical** \- hey don’t correct it like that!”

“Brah, stop all your uncleanse unfresh lingo yo, we got a kid here after all,” Fresh said, motioning to Frisk. The little glitchy child looked up from the Parcheesi board and waved a little. The he got up and started walking over to Error.

“Like I give a  **funk** \- kid what the  **heck**  are you doing?”

Frisk had gone up and started making weird faces at him. Error ignored him for awhile… before Frisk stuck their fingers in their eyes and rapserberried at him. Error gave an incoherent scriek and lunged at Frisk, who just laughed and ran off.

Fresh turned to Geno and asked, “Frisky fo gone wacky or something Geno?”

Geno shok his head, grinning. “Nah. Kid knows what he’s doing. Seems Error’s having fun, though,” he said, motioning to the still screeching skeleton. He looked rather like a dog chasing a cat, especially since Frisk kept pausing to look at him before dashing off again.

“Whatever ya say brah…” Fresh muttered. He and Geno were were sitting by the set-up board, and just watched the two children run around the save screen, Error shouting and Frisk just laughing. 

At last, Error started panting, and slowed down to a stop. “I’ll… get…. you…. kid….” he huffed, hands on his knees to steady himself.

“Sure brah. ‘Till then, wanna play? We need our fourth player,” Fresh called.

“…” Error didn’t respond, but he walked over to the grassy patch anyways. Frisk patted the spot next to him, and with an exhausted glare Error sat down.

“Fine, I’ll play your stupid game- it’ll shut you up at least,  **radhole**.”

“Lighten up Error, don’t have such a dark outlook on things,” Geno joked. 

“Who knows brah, you may even have a fun radtatsic time!” Fresh added.

Error just glared at him, and asked, “How you you  _play_  this stupid thing anyways?”

Geno explained, and they all started the game. Fresh joked in his usual 90′s way, and Error bitched about it every time- though he was too tired to do much of anything except whine. Geno sometimes added in the banter, but mostly tried to keep the other two from going too insane. Frisk helped him with that, distracting one’s attention when he got too riled up. They were… used to dealing with less-than-sane entities. 

They were… actually having fun. As much as any of them were really capable of it. They argued and bickered endlessly, but everyone… felt safe. Maybe that’s why the agreed to this in the first place. The Save Screen… was a rare location where nothing could really happen. No one could find them, no one could talk to them, no one could torment them. 

Besides each other, and that was quickly became the greatest issue.

“Sorry  _again?_  What the  **funk!”**  Error shouting, flinging his hands in the air and coming dangerous close to knocking the board over. Frisk nervously pulled it farther away from him, and shot a glance at Geno.

“Brah chill. You gotta have heart of the cards, ya know?” Fresh said, waving off Error’s agitation. It was just a board game after all, why was he so uppity-tight upset?

“Heart of the- you  _cheated!_ You cheated didn’t you!” Error shouted, getting up and ready to storm over.

“Brah it wasn’t even my card, so I don’t know what you’re going on about. Sides, it’s just- whatcha say- a figure of speech.”

“I just got lucky,” Geno said, shrugging. “Nothing more. You shuffled the deck yourself, you’d know if it was rigged.”

“But- still- ARGH!” Error shouted, walking around gesturing.

Geno, Frisk, and Fresh exchanged glances. None of them knew what to do. Fresh didn’t understand  _why_  Error was being so unrad, and the home residents didn’t know how to calm him down. 

After a few minutes, Frisk tentatively went over to Error and asked if he wanted to play anymore. Error just grumbled under his breathe, but Frisk pointed out that he  _was_  in second place, he might as well finish. Error stared moodily for a second, then he huffed and walked back to the board.

“Welcome back brah! No sense being a sour loser, huh? Let’s play!”

Error growled at him, but sat down anyways. Fresh had been winning the entire game, though Error was close behind. They kept targeting each other, while Geno and Frisk mostly tried to take out the most strategic person. Usually Fresh, given his lead.

They continued on, now in silence. Occasionally one would try to speak up, joke a little, but Error always stared them down. As the silence lengthened, the others started to shift.

 Fresh’s eternal smile started to get harder, more plastic than before. He knew a tense situation when he saw it- and he didn’t like it. He could always leave- he came here under his own power, after all. But the tense atmosphere was making him antsy nonetheless.

Frisk just looked between the skeletons, a worried look on the face. Frisk would be safe, they was sure, but they was worried about Geno. What would happen to him if Error went off on him? They noticed with alarm that Geno’s eyes had started to take on a tinge of red… this wouldn’t end well.

Geno himself sat and just- stared- at these other two. He had allowed the two interlopers in to  _his_  domain so that he might have some company that  _wasn’t_  trying to kill him. If these two were going to start something… he would have to deal with them. 

They continued to play in silence, until Fresh pulled another Sorry card. “Sorry brah! But I’mma have to knock ya back to start!” he said, kicking a piece  _right_  next to the ending away.

“…” Error started to glitch, before he shrieked and threw the game board to the side. “This- you  **funkingradical radhole!** AND STOP DOING THAT!” Error said, jumping towards Fresh. Fresh didn’t even looked up, just rolled to the aside and away from Error, before getting up and backing away.

“Brah.  _Not cool_. It’s just a game, you don’t need to get so gosh darn worked up over it,” Fresh said, a fake smile on his face but a wary look in his eyes.

Frisk got up and ran between them. *Please, no fighting! We’re all friends here-”

“I’m no friend of  _his”_ Error interrupted, pointing at Fresh.

“Ru-ude,” Fresh said, but before he could speak again Geno interrupted.

“ _Neither_  of you is my  _friend_. I  _invited_  you here to  _have a good time_. And if you two won’t get along, then….” He left his threat unanswered. 

“Brah, I’m all about having good times,” Fresh said, shrugging. “Error seems a bit out of sorts though.”

“Out of sorts.  _Out of sorts?!”_  Error shrieked, his hands starting to glow blue as he summoned his strings. “You drag me away me away from a disgusting, filthy world to this-  _abomination-_ and-…”

Error cut himself off there, a distant look coming over him. “This world… it really is sick, isn’t it. You got that half-melted freak over there,” he said, motioning towards Geno, “and this  _kid_ … ya know. This world- this  _error_ ,” he said, giving an insane grin, “should just be  _deleted_.”

“…” Fresh watched the scene, detached. He knew that look. Error would destroy this place- and if Geno wanted to stop him, that was his issue. He didn’t care, and he wouldn’t endanger himself. Quietly, he strolled over and picked up his game board. Frisk noticed him, but Geno was just watching Error, preparing himself to stop the insane skeleton. Fresh pocketed his game, then slipped away the way he came.

Geno noticed Fresh leave, but he didn’t expect anything else. Right npow, though, he had to deal with a madman.

“Error,” he said, stepping forward, “I will  _not_  let you destroy my home. I will  _not let you destroy Papyrus_.”

Error just turned to him, an ecstatic, insane expression on his face. “Ahh, let’s start with  _you_ ,” he said, throwing a collection of his strings towards Geno.

Geno- being, well,  _Genocide Sans_ \- dodged expertly out of the way of the blue lines, and turned his own magic blue. He grabbed Error’s soul, and threw him as hard as he could, and shouted “ _GET OUT OF MY WORLD!”_

Error flew backwards, and seemed to hit a wall before crashing right through it. Geno watched the window- rather like the one he watched his world in- shrink close again. He was alone in the Save Screen, again.

His attention was distracted by a little figure walking over to him and tugging on his coat. He looked down, and slowly smiled at the child. Frisk. “Well, not completely alone,” he said. Frisk smiled and nodded. Geno chuckled.

“Next time… let’s play a game with just the two of us.” Then they both started chuckling, feeling not quite as lonely as before.

* * *

Fresh, Geno, and Error by the lovely and amazingly talented [@loverofpiggies](https://tmblr.co/mZjiR0q2bsZdvcGVHj-3sVg)

Freshuary by the deliciously angsty bird [@feth](https://tmblr.co/mv1HjdDYtwXankxgUt08COQ)


	8. Homeslice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freshuary Day Nine: Who do you ship Fresh with?
> 
> Well that one’s easy- @alainaprana! 
> 
> Characters: Fresh (Worldview), Alaina Prana (Worldview), Zigzag (Worldview)

_“_ Daaaaddy! Daadddyy Fresh!” a little voice called. A cute human in a rainbow shirt, hat, and blue jeans looked up when she heard it. The girl- Alaina- got up from her sewing to see what was wrong. She soon saw a little skeleton in a blue-and-red striped shirt and blue jeans running around the house, calling for his papa. Alaina was concerned at what was troubling her son- Zigzag- but before she could walk over to him, Fresh popped in.

He was dressed in his usual neon outfit- pink shirt, crayola-styled blue-and-purple jacket, and neon sports shorts. Like the rest of them, he had a pair of glasess, but unlike the others they were actually over his eyes.

Fresh quickly walked over to Zig, kneeling down to be at eye-level with him. “Hey broseph, what’s got you in a widdly-wobbly mess, huh?” His voice was soft, despite the cheery words, and Zig just started sniffling when he heard it.

“S-some of the kids at the park… they were…. “ Zig started, but trailed off. 

“Hey little bro, you can tell me. What did they say?”

“They said… that…. I couldn’t be Mom’s kid… cause I was a skeleton… and…” Zig trailed off again, not looking at Fresh anymore, but studying the orange-and-purple carpet. Alaina just watched the scene, wanting to comfort zig but deciding to let Fresh continue to handle it.

Fresh sighed, and placed his hands of Ziggy’s shoulders. “Brah. Listen to me. Folks… they can get some wacked ideas, cause they just don’t know better, you know? They just a bit ignorant. You can’t let those sick ideas bug you. You know they’re not true, right?” He said, his tone changing to be more serious. “You’re my radtastic little son, and sweetheart’s fluffy little boy.” Zig and Alaina blushed a little at that, but Zig then drooped his head some more.

“But… I’m not like you… either of you….” he said quietly.

“Brah, I’m not like anyone. Nor are you. Or Alaina, or Jojo. We’re all different- all got our own special little things, you dig? ‘Sides, that isn’t what makes a family connected.”

“It’s not?” Zig asked, honestly curious. “…Families are supposed to be alike, aren’t they?”

“Dude if all families were alike it’d be pretty boringly monochrome, and that’s totes unfresh. Listen,” he said, gently guiding Zig’s gaze back to him. “What makes us a family ain’t our similarities or differences. It’s our connection, little brah. We’re all here for eahc other, you dig? If you need help, I’m here for ya. If Sweetheart needs help, we’d be there for her, you know? And if jojo gets hurt, you’re always right there, defending her like the rad big bro you are.” Zig nodded slowly, but he didn’t look fully convinced. Fresh continued.

“That’s what makes us a family brah. Not our looks or what creature we are. We’re always there for each other, defending and helping the other, you know? That bond… that love for the other…. that’s what makes us a family. And no matter what no sick unrad kid says, that won’t change. We’ll stay together, and be the raddest family eva. Okay?”

Zigzag slowly nodded, and wiped his eyes. “Ya… ya. We’re always together. One big rad family.” Zig smiled, and started to turn back to his normal hyper self. “Okay then. Thanks daddy Fresh! You’re the coolest dad ‘round,” and with that, he collapsed on Fresh in a huge hug. Fresh just smiled and hugged back.

  “Anytime broseph,” he said, rubbing Zig’s head a little. Zig halfheartedly whined, then pushed himself up.

“Imma go play with sis, okay?” Zig said, starting to run off.

“Kay brah, have fun!” Fresh called after the rapidly-dissappearing Zig. Then he looked over at Alaina. “Hey there sweetheart. Been listenin’?”

Alaina walked out of the hallway and over to Fresh. “I heard Zig yelling and went to check on him. Seems you had it all under control,” she said, smiling. 

Fresh smiled back, then pulled her into a hug. He loved hugs, and Alaina never objected. “Little man just needed some reassurance, ya know? No biggie.”

Alaina looked up a bit and nodded. “Zig’s a strong kid, and we’ll always be here. No sense dwelling on it.”

“Nah, none at all.” Fresh replied. After a minute of hugging, he reluctantly pulled back. “Okay sweetheart, whatcha working on today?”

“Plushies- stocking up for the con next month. You?”

“Nothin’ really. ‘s playing with jojo earlier, but ziggies doin’ that now. Want some help?”

“Hmm…” Alaina said, thinking. “Could you cut out some of the fabric? Then I could focus on sewing.”

“Sure thing sweetheart,” Fresh said, before heading towards the craft room. 

Alaina and Fresh worked on the plushies for an hour or so, before shouts could be heard from the bedroom. Alaina got up to see what was up.

She peeked in the room, and saw Zig and Jojo immersed in a Mario Kart match. They kept the Wii in there for safety’s sake, but the kid’s were pretty careful with it. Right now they laughing and cheering as they finished a race, loud but happy. Alaina told them to quiet down a bit, but seeing them happy made her smile.

The rest of the afternoon, she worked on her various crafts, and Fresh went to working on his comics. Every now and again one of them would get up to check on the kids, or to see what the other was doing. Whenever Fresh went over, he rested his skull on Alaina’s head, making sure not to distract her but still letting her know he was there. They’d occasionally tease each other, in a playful way, but for the most part they concentrated on their work, content to simply be in the room together.

Eventually Fresh left to take care of the kids and do some work on his own. He and the kids made a game of tidying up the house a bit, and Alaina could hear the quiet shouts as they all tried to be “the best sickest raddest cleaners eva”. She had to smile, but mostly she just concentrated on her art, lost in her own little world.

As it got dark, Fresh waltzed back into the craft room, and hugged a very-zoned-out Alaina from behind. He planted a kiss on her startled head, and whispered, “Hey sweetie, it’s getting a bit late. How ‘bout we make somethin’ together? Or would ya rather I grab some food?”

Alaina leaned her head back into him, and looked up and replied, “Making something sounds fun. How about stir-fry? And something sweet for dessert?”

“You’re all the sweetness I need,” Fresh said, kissing her again. Alaina giggled, then Fresh said, “Anything’s good for me sweetie, whichever you like.” 

“Stir-fry then,” Alaina said. They stayed hugging for a minute, before Alaina wiggled out of it and stood up. They walked to the kitchen and started prepping.

Fresh couldn’t taste, but he could prep food really well. He sliced and diced the veggies while Alaina prepped ingredients for cookies, then they swapped and Alaina fried the vegetables while Fresh finished the cookies and set them in the oven. He set the timer for the cookies, and Alaina called to the kids, “Dinner’s almost done!”

Jojo and Zig had been playing some imaginary game, but they broke up and bounded over. They quickly got the table set for dinner, and sat down, waiting eagerly. Fresh and Alaina dished out the food, and sat down themselves. After a moment, they all plowed in.

“Yummy! This is really good!” Zig said.

“Tasty food!” Jojo chimed in.

The parents just smiled and Alaina said, “We make a good team cooking is all.”

“Teach us?” Jojo asked. “Ya, it looks like fun!” Zig added.

Fresh chuckled and said, “Maybe sometime homeslices. ‘Long as everyones careful, kay? Cookin’s fun but ya gotta watch yourself.”

“We know,” the kids said simultaniously, then started chuckling. 

The conversation drifted after that- what everyone did, a funny story someone remembered, a new hobby they had discovered. Everyone smiled and laughed, so much they took forever finishing their food. Fresh got up halfway through and pulled the cookies out of the oven, setting them on a rack to cool.

After dinner, everyone pitched in with cleaning up- the parents packing up the food and starting the dishes, while the kids put everything away. Then came the fun part.

They had made icing earlier, and now pulled out the icing and sprinkles. With a firm reminder to not make too big a mess, everyone got started on decorating the cookies.

Everyone had a particular style. Fresh drowned his cookies in sprinkles- “sprinkles are little rainbow pieces, and the more the radder”-, Zigzag made little patterns on his- “Stripes are so cool!”-, JoJo made hers as colorful as possible- “Look at all the pretty colors!”-, and Alaina did little abstract designs in hers- “It’s a sunflower with a pink scarf, see?”

Everyone laughed and oohed and aahed over the other’s designs, occasionally saying how they looked too good to eat. They got some icing on themselves, but nothing a quick clean-up couldn’t fix. 

After the finished, they just sat back and admired all the colorful cookies. Zig eventually said, “This is what families about, huh? Just hanging out, having fun, and being together.”

“You got it broseph,” Fresh said, smiling. “This is the best yo.”

Eventually they had to get up and clean everything up again, and by then the kids were yawning (and trying to hide it). The parents ushered them to their rooms, the kids halfheartedly protesting. They tucked the kids in, then quietly crept away.

“They’re good kids,” Alaina said quietly, watching them through a crack in the door.

“Well ‘f course they are, they’re ours,” Fresh replied. “’Sides. The amazing one’s you,” he said, pulling Alaina back into another hug.

Alaina hummed a little, and said, “You’re amazing too, hubby. We’e pretty lucky,” she said.

Fresh nodded, and said, “Totally. Now come on- it’s time to go to sleep.” He took Alaina’s hand, and they walked back to their room. One rad day had ended, and there would be many more to come.

* * *

Fresh by [@loverofpiggies](https://tmblr.co/mZjiR0q2bsZdvcGVHj-3sVg) 

Freshuary by [@feth](https://tmblr.co/mv1HjdDYtwXankxgUt08COQ)

(Kid!)Zigzag, Jojo, and herself by [@alainaprana](https://tmblr.co/mFlrgV7hl6r-4tJKmZ_HP4A)


	9. Little Bro

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fresuary Day Seven: Fresh meets his kid self
> 
> Characters: Fresh (Lucidia), Fresh (MommaCQ)
> 
> Warnings: None

In an abandoned lot, two neon skeletons skated around doing various tricks. From a distance, they looked almost like father and son, or maybe two brothers who dressed alike. They laughed and talked casually as the breeze, looking to the world like the happiest people alive.

But of course that’s at a distance. Up close…

“Hey big bro mcman, how’d ya do the rad nasty trick again?” the smaller one asked.

“That widdle-waddle nightmare flip? Little buddy bro it ain’t so far out hard as you’re trying, you need to relax a little more little buddy,” the larger one replied. He skated over to the little guy and sat down on the board. “Show me what moves you got so far homeslice, then we’ll see. You’re pretty bright little bulb after all.” The skelly smiled, but it looked hollow, and even with the sunglasses one could sense a hard stare.  

“Shaw, I’m always cool big guy, I’m the chillest radtastic guy on the block. Nothin’ bothers me,” the little guy said, shrugging. When the big guy skated over, the little one stared a bit from behind his shades, watching him. Then he grinned broadly and said, “Hey, no problem my man, check out these moves.”

The little one zoomed off on his board, running through some tricks he’d already mastered, including the prerequisite double flip. Then he called, “Hey watch and tell me what’s up will ya bud?”, before attempting and failing the nightmare flip. He focused on the tricks, not responding to the other’s earlier comment. Better to just act cheery, non-threatening.

The slumped-over guy watched intently, cataloging what he saw. The little kid was good- really good. He had noticed the lack of comment but didn’t respond to it. When he saw the failed flip, he noticed the issue instantly. “Dude, you ain’t landed on nice and square on the spinny flippy board little guy. Ya gotta keep control of you feet, watch where they are, ya dig? Like this.” And he got up and demonstrated the flip, taking care to land properly himself.

The kid looked up when the other spoke, and slowly skated over towards him. Didn’t want to appear rude, ya know? He listened intently to the others’ words, and watched how he placed his feet with the flip. Suddenly it clicked. “Ah, your foot lands on the end- that totes makes sense now, thanks man, your rad.” He started to skate off and tried to the flip again. Even knowing what to do, he had issue landed perfect. Knowledge and skill were different after all. As he practiced, he carefully casually said, “Ya got really sick body control there big guys. I always try to stay safe and careful, no sense getting hurt after all, but sometimes I trip over my feet, ya dig?”

The expert had gone back to practicing tricks of his own, though he always kept an eyesocket on the little guy. “Always rad to help a little homeslice like my little man-” he stopped when the other his control comment. That was… a little too probing. 

Fresh kicked up his board and walked over to the smaller skeleton. “Hey bro,” he said, smile still on but voice not as much. “I never did catch your name.”

He was being obvious. But he had enough information now. Whatever this skeleton was… he looked, talked, and, acted almost exactly like himself.  _Almost_  being key. 

They were both emotionless, both calculating, both pretending. Fresh had noticed the little guy’s glances, and knew his looks had been noticed in return. They’d played cat-and-mouse for an hour now. But the little dude. Kept skating around. Like he knew every inch of the lot. He watched Fresh, but looked like he was comfortable. Wary, yes. But comfortable. In this place. In his own “skin.” Like he was a normal skeleton after all. 

Fresh wanted to know why.

The kid stopped skating, and stared at the bigger version of himself. He knew that they were the same. The way they spoke, the way they laughed, the way they flipped a skateboard. Almost like brothers. But the kid could sense something terribly wrong with the bigger skeleton. Almost like an aura of energy around him. Maybe it was his magic, not quite natural, not quite normal. Maybe it was the way he seemed to perfectly control his body, but led with his chest, not his head like most. 

The kid wanted to know what, exactly, made him not a skeleton. He could tell that much.

The kid shook his head and smiled. “Hey Brah, we’ve done this all afternoon. Enough games, huh? I need to head home.”

“…home.” 

“Ya brah, I got a radtastic family waitin’ for me. So I’m just going to mozy on along, ya get me? Don’t want to worry the folks, or rile up Error again.”

“…” Error. They had both mentioned that name before. It didn’t take long for the kid to realize he wasn’t related to the ‘skeleton.’ It didn’t take Fresh long to realize he wasn’t just an acquaintance. But family? He would haven’t guessed that.

The pieces clicked. This place was an amorality, then. The kid- was just that. A amorality. Fresh chucked quickly, and thought, “Long as you’re just that kid.”

Outloud, he said, “Nah brah, worrying folks is totes unfresh, and we wouldn’t want to be that, right homeslice?”

Kid!Fresh smiled falsely, and replied, “Nah brah, we’re Fresh. The freshiest of the bunch, and that’s how it’ll stay. World needs more of us, hey?”

Fresh gave a jack-o-lantern smile in return. “Totally right little brah, we need to spread the freshness across the land. More like us, hey? But nothing beats the original amIright? Gotta set the road for the others ya know.”

Kid!Fresh shrugged, and said, “Hey, a few smiles, a few laughs; cause why be upset over nothin? Gonna spread those good vibes to all my peeps, teach them a happier way. But they gonna do themselves, you dig? ‘Sides. I’m just a kid. I ain’t an adult like you, to be all authority-like.”

Fresh chuckeled and shook his head, “Heh, well this big dude says to go run along home, little bro. You got a  _special_  place here, wouldn’t wanna wreck that for ya little dude.”

Their glares could cut concrete, if the shades didn’t block it. Kid!Fresh turned away first, saying, “Ya, this place is special. Some say I am,” he said, taking off his glasses to stare at Fresh, “but hey, being special? Ain’t so fun. Rather be a radical little dude, having fun and kicking out slick moves. Ya dig?”

Fresh started a bit when the other took the shades off. He expected what he saw, but he didn’t think the kid was that bold. He chuckled, then started laughing humorlessly for a minute. When he recovered, he said, “Ya dude, I feel ya. You’re a lucky little dude tho. But there’s only one true Fresh, and’s me.  Capisch?”

The kid just nodded, then started to skate off. He turned back slightly to Fresh, and called back. “You got some rad presence there dude. Don’t worry ‘bout dropping around, I’ll find ya. Maybe we can do some tricks then again.”

Fresh just gave a hard smile, and turned and walked away.


	10. Little Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freshuary Day Six: Fresh’s favorite toy?
> 
> Characters: Fresh (Lucidia)
> 
> Warnings: None

( _Okay, I know that Furbie is canonically Fresh’s favorite toy, but for sake of variety I’m doing something else)_

Fresh sat curled up under a tree, intently watching a little screen. He was holding a neon-green, little egg-shaped device, which beeped and booped cheerily. It was an original Tamagotchi, one Fresh had randomly found at a garage sale. The green had caught his eye and the little pet idea caught his interest, so he decided to get it, just for fun.

Currently, he was playing a simple minigame- guess the next direction. His little alien pet was almost full-grown now, and had had exquisite care. Fresh’s first pet hadn’t done so well- Fresh had checked it, but somewhat irregularly. It was just a toy, after all, and he had a lot of rad stuff to do.

But over time, he’d gotten… more interested in the little alien. He found himself checking it more consistently, pulling it out of his pocket every hour or so to make sure the little dude was clean and fed. The little dude was only a bunch of pixels, but it depended on him, ya know? It didn’t take much effort to keep it happy anyways. And it was totally interesting to see it change as it grew up, how what did influenced how it looked, acted.  

Fresh found himself getting more interesting in the little pet, trying to keep it happy and healthy. He kept it perfectly disciplined, and often pulled the toy out to play the silly little minigame. It was simple… but it was interesting. 

It was just a little life in a box. But it  _was_  a life. One that needed him to keep it happy. And really- it wasn’t a bother. It was even fun. So why not? It passed the time.

The minigame ended, and then the screen started to fill with black lines. The lines cleared, and the teenager pet had transformed into a cute little cat. Fresh smiled, than pocketed the little toy, before getting up and walking away. 

 

* * *

Fresh by [@loverofpiggies](https://tmblr.co/mZjiR0q2bsZdvcGVHj-3sVg)

Freshuary by [@feth](https://tmblr.co/mv1HjdDYtwXankxgUt08COQ)


	11. Another's Pain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freshuary Day 5: Emotion 
> 
> Characters: Fresh (Lucidia)
> 
> Warnings: Depression, And-I-Must-Scream, Possession

“You never think, do you?! DO you ever, EVER, think about what it’s like for us? The torment you put us through? How’d you like it if it was you, huh? Tell me!  _How would you like it_?”

“Brah, it don’t bother me none, you know that,” Fresh replied, before going back to ignoring the voice. The host.

He had heard it all. Death threats, curses, screams- so many screams. It didn’t bother him. Nothing did. Nothing  _could_. He… actually liked the sound if it. It meant he was in control. Powerful. If they were quiet… he would wonder what was up. What they were planning.

Not like they could hurt him, but. It was a pain in the neck to deal with a takeover attempt. It tired them both out. Wasteful- useless. They never won. They never would.

Fresh heelied along, going nowhere in particular, just cruisin’. He didn’t have anything he needed to do, and… he didn’t feel like doing anything. The host had shut up, slightly worrying him. But their words… wouldn’t leave his head.

_How would you like it?_

Fresh hadn’t really ever thought about it. Why would he? What they felt did not matter. He knew, from a factual point of view, that the hosts were in incredible pain. That they often longed to die, to be freed from suffering. Fresh couldn’t understand it. No matter how painful their life was… how was it better than dying? Than non-existing? 

Their emotions… it confused him. Angered him, as much as anything could. It. was. so.  _STUPID_. Why would anyone throw their life away? Why would they CARE? 

Caring was not an advantage, in his mind. He didn’t care- and he never wanted to. If it made him as suicidal and moronic as them.

But…

The host’s words wouldn’t go away.

He tried to push them aside.  _It didn’t matter._ He didn’t care. He didn’t care.

He didn’t-

Fresh stopped rolling for a moment, and absently rubbed his chest, over where the soul sat. It… hurt. What… that wasn’t…

His closed his eyes and checked the soul. No, it still looked whole. It had a few cracks, but not many. Not enough to explain this. He… never felt pain… not soul pain. Not… whatever this was. 

What was going on?

Fresh opened his eyes, confused and feeling himself getting angrier.  _This wasn’t supposed to happen_. 

Fresh quit rolling and started striding. He needed to stop this. This wasn’t normal, this wasn’t  _right-_ he wouldn’t put up with it.

If the soul was corrupted, broken, whatever- it didn’t mater. It would go. Flaws were not acceptable. Pain was not acceptable.  _This was not acceptable_.

He was always in control. Of everything. But this… he couldn’t control it. So he would  _e n d  i t._

Fresh walked along, in predator mode now. He scanned for someone suitable for his needs, someone easy to take. He didn’t have time for this- he did not want to deal with this. But.

His soul ached more and more as he walked. What started as a dull pang was slowly growing to an all-consuming burning. Like all he was was burning away, being consumed. Soon Fresh started to wheeze, the pain too much to contain.

The pain angered him, but his cheap shadow of anger couldn’t match the burning. He could feel what little self-preserving emotion he had being overwhelmed by the pain. 

Fresh tried to shake his head, shake it away. Or at least to concentrate. He was starting to have issues thinking straight. This just angered him even  _more_ , but the pain… it was exhausting him. He wanted to just lie down and sleep, sleep for a thousand years… or just rip his soul out of his chest. Anything to end the pain. But he couldn’t.

Fresh pushed himself on, doggedly determined to find a new host ASAP. He could hear the host chuckling slightly, but Fresh ignored it. He had bigger concerns right now than whatever that shell was thinking.

Fresh eventually entered a city, staggering and slightly dazed. His eyes didn’t want to focus on anything, his mind didn’t want to clear the fog away. The pain was still there, but now the burning was dulled by pure exhaustion. He had no energy, to move, to think. He knew in the back of his mind that this tiredness was not physical, that his body had plenty of energy. It was something else entirely, something Fresh had never experience before.

He wanted to figure it out, figure out  away to stop it, but he couldn’t. He could barely stand. He had to focus on simply walking, one step following another. If anyone came after him now, he wasn’t sure he could defend himself, a thought which sent a pang of fear through him. He needed to stop this.  _Now_.

Fresh staggered along, determined to pick the first poor sap he could possess easily. He scanned people, analyzing them as best he could given the circumstances. He wandered around for fifteen or so minutes before he saw someone.

Not a skeleton, not a candidate. A  younger girl, maybe a teenager. She was walking along, trying to ignore a guy following her. He kept on walking up to her, despite her speeding up to get away, talking to her. He finally got angry and grabbed her by the arm, spinning her around to face him.

Fresh paused, for a minute, watching the interaction. Bullying was totes unrad, and he had half a mind to walk on over and stop it, out of principle. But right now he didn’t have the time or energy, and what did he care?

He kept watching though. Slowly something started to change. He started to feel a bit like he couldn’t breathe, like his non-existent throat was closing up. He felt… like he was surrounded in liquid, trapping him in its suffocating grasp. 

Fresh coughed once, twice, to try and clear up the weird sensation. But it didn’t work. His breathing didn’t get worse, but. The feeling of drowning… of the light going away… didn’t end. It started to overwhelm him, causing him to start breathing raggedly,.

He had been facing the woman, who was still being harassed, but now he turned away, head in hands. He was trying to think. But slowly, he noticed something. When… he didn’t face her… the feeling of drowning lessened. What… no… what  _was_  this?

Fresh decided to experiment slightly. He turned back towards the scene, to see if the feeling came back. But soon he was shocked into stillness.

The man had the women almost pinned against the wall. She was… crying? and even from across the street Fresh could hear her begging him to go away. The guy just leaned in closer, whispering something indistinguishable to her.

The street was empty except for them. Fresh started to turn away, to leave- harassment was wrong but he was busy- when the woman cried out. Fresh snapped around again, and without thinking strode over to them.

The guy was… Fresh didn’t bother to check the details. He grabbed the guy by the shoulder and whipped him around. The guy’s face registered surprise, fear, for half a second. Fresh socked him in the face, hard enough for him to crumple to the ground.

He was breathing hard, a nervous energy running through him. His mind was racing- what was happening, why did he do that,  _that was stupid WHY DID HE DO THAT-_

Fresh was always in control. But that… he didn’t think. He had just acted.

The woman was trying to say something to him, but Fresh pushed her aside. Started to walk off. She walked after him- Fresh heard her footsteps- so he. Ran. 

He ran through the city, till he was sure he had lost her. He was still breathing heavily- now from exertion- and shaking. From fear. 

He… didn’t know what was happening to him. He didn’t know  _why_  he was acting like this, how to  _stop_  it. How to control it. He always… he needed to fix it. But he was starting to fear… that he couldn’t.

He still felt like he was burning, his head all foggy. It still felt like the light was gone, like he couldn’t breathe. He… nothing was stopping it. What…why…?

“Not so nice to be on the receiving end, huh?” a voice said.

Fresh whipped around, but soon realized the voice came form inside. From the  _soul_.

“ _WHAT DID YOU DO?”_ Fresh demanded, fear igniting rage in him.

“Me? Nothing “brah”. It  _all you_. Being burned away- isn’t fun, is it? Feeling yourself slip away,  _consumed._ That nothing  _matters_  because nothing  _helps_. That the sun won’t ever shine, because all you’ll ever know from now on is  _despair_.

“ _Not so nice when it’s YOU, huh?”_

Fresh… didn’t respond. He just stood, breathing heavily, trying to process it all. He couldn’t. His mind wouldn’t work. And that thought scared him more than any other. 

He always was in control of himself. But now…  _he couldn’t do anything_.

* * *

Fresh eventually found another host. But it was even  _worse_.

He could hear the host screaming in pain, and felt like a dagger had been stabbed through him. The host pleaded, begged, for some-  _any_ \- help, and Fresh felt like he was going to suffocate, collapse and curl up into a ball and never leave. The host cried- so much- and Fresh could feel the darkness returning, turning the bright sunny day into a starless night.

He didn’t have words for these sensations, he could only guess. Desperation, despair,  _pain_ … 

Everything the host felt, he felt.

And it wasn’t just them.

Fresh couldn’t walk outside anymore without being assaulted by new, horrible, experiences.

When he saw a little girl crying, his throat choked up and he felt like collapsing, and never getting up again.

When he saw someone shouting at another, he could feel himself burning, a smoky haze filling his brain, poisoning his thoughts.

When he saw someone back away in fear, or cower from another’s words, or quickly apologize to appease another, he could feel his throat close up, his body tense up, from the fear,

The fear was the worst. He saw it  _e v e r y w h e r e_ , and he  _knew_  it the most. It hadn’t been his nature to feel anger or sadness or happiness, but  _fear_. He knew that emotion like it was a brother.

Fresh started avoiding people, avoiding going out. If he did, he just went to parties, places everyone was happy. Happiness he could deal with- it meshed with his rad 90′s self.

But the rest…

Fresh tried to ignore. Tried to walk without seeing, hear without listening. He avoided any contact he didn’t have to initiate. He tried to avoid feeling  _anything_.

Because now he was cursed to feel  _everything_.

…And he had  _no idea what he was going to do._

* * *

Fresh was made by @loverofpiggies

Freshuary was made by @feth


	12. Forgotten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freshuary Day 3: What does Fresh dream about?
> 
> Characters: Fresh (Lucidia)
> 
> Warning: Nightmare, Existentialism

Fresh didn’t dream. Not often. Why would he? Dreams… they were coping mechanisms. Information processors. Buried emotions rising to the surface.

He didn’t need that. So he didn’t dream. Usually. 

The few times he did… everything was indistinct, unclear. Darkness… but not the darkness of night, but more… of emptiness. Nothing blocked light. But nothing shed light. Nothing was real, and yet.

He would crawl along, a little purple worm who could hardly move. He couldn’t see anything. He couldn’t feel anything. He simply… existed. 

And so did… they.

Fresh didn’t know who  _they_  were. Didn’t care. They weren’t real, yet, they were there. Shadowy figures, large as trees; prismatic motes, small as dust. They didn’t have a form. Yet they could run. They didn’t a mind. Yet, they could speak. They didn’t have a purpose, yet. They chased.

Fresh couldn’t speak, not like this. He couldn’t use magic, not in this non-place. He could only… run.

The figures were neither closer nor farther away. They simple… were. 

Sometimes they looked like hooded figures, light emanating from the curved blades. Sometimes they looked like skeletons, some familiar, some not so much. Sometimes… they looked like humans… hunched over a computer, typing away.

They never looked at him, yet they watched. They never moved towards him, yet they chased. They never seemed to acknowledge he existed. And yet- they always faced him. No matter how he ran, they traced him, with their non-existent eyes.

Fresh always awoke, not remembering the dream, but remembering the fear. Of being chased. Of being vulnerable. Of being… powerless. 

Somehow he knew without knowing, that these being would squash him without a second thought. Wouldn’t think of him any more than they would an ant. That they… would not even notice, if he was gone.

And yet. They knew him. They saw him. They  _observed_. For reasons unknown and unknowable to him. 

Fresh always watched over his shoulder a little more after those dreams. A fear he couldn’t really place and couldn’t really shake gripped him, like the thinnest spider silk caught on him.

He did not know what these beings were. He did not know if they existed, or if they didn’t. He didn’t know what they wanted, or did not want; what they approved of, or disproved of.

He only knew. That they would obliterate him without a second thought, if they wished, if he went too far. They were not beings whose attention should be obtained. They were too strange, too terrible, to been seen, to see. And yet.

They watched.

 

* * *

Fresh by the being known as @loverofpiggies

Freshuary by the being known as [@feth](https://tmblr.co/mv1HjdDYtwXankxgUt08COQ)


	13. Interference

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Characters: Fresh (MommaCQ), Decans (MommaCQ)
> 
> Warnings: mild child abuse

(Technically, Decans isn’t even in the story yet, and we don’t know that much about his family, but. Sorry if I got everyone characters really off…)

(And I’m sorry in advance… I couldn’t think of a good ending…)

Fresh skated round the neighborhood sidewalk, trying to perfect a new trick. He had been at it for an hour of so, gliding up and down the empty concrete path as easily as a bird flies. He had just about managed to get the flip consistently, when a noise caught his attention.

The rainbow skeleton had occasionally heard odd flashes of noise while he had been skating, and once or twice had paused to see what it was. But nobody was around, and nothing seemed wrong, so he just shrugged and went back to the board. Weird noises, no biggie, why worry about it?

But this time he caught the sound better. It was muffled and distant, but he could catch a word “DECANS!“ 

Fresh snapped his head towards the house of his bro, Deccy. He was a little bit from it, but close enough to hear the shout. Now that he paused facing the house, he could pick out voices- arguing voices. He couldn’t pick out words or even the owners, but the sound made him uneasy.

Fresh turned away form the house, and picked up his skateboard. Deccy’s parents… they fought a lot he knew. It didn’t bug him- nothing did- but he knew it made Deccy uncomfortable. Fresh always tried to chase the shadows of their fights away- a smile here, a laugh there. Anything to see his rad friend smile. But the parents? Yo, what could a kid like him do? ‘Nuthin. It wasn’t his place.

Fresh started to walk away, when he heard something else. A new sound… it was higher pitched. It lasted only a second- but. Fresh instinctively looked up at the house.  _Deccy? That you?_

Fresh hesitated, wavering between instigating and just letting it go. He paused, then turned and started walking towards the house. He dropped his boar din his own yard- he’d have to put it away later- and headed towards Deccy’s window. He’d just check on his friend, make sure he was still cool. ‘Sides, they could do something fun. Maybe finish that building-thing Decs had been working on… wasn’t Fresh’s thing, but anything for his little bro.

He knew he was interfering, and he probably shouldn’t. But Deccy needed him… right?

Fresh rounded the side of the house and got to Deccy’s window. It was cracked open as usual, and Fresh propped himself up to see his little friend. He peered into the room, but… no Deccy. Fresh scanned the room again, brow furrowed, to make sure he didn’t miss him. Nope. No Deccy dec. Weird… where was the little guy?

“Guess I’ll have to come back later,” Fresh said, starting to get down, when he saw the door start to open and Deccy walk into the room. The little skeleton’s eyes were full yellow, and he looked like he was shaking. He was also was clutching his left arm, though any potenial injury was hidden with his sweatshirt. He jumped a little when he noticed Fresh standing there, and opened his mouth to say something, when a loud voice exclaimed, 

,“DECANS WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU’RE GOING? YOU GET BACK HERE RIGHT NOW!”

Deccy jumped and turned back towards the living room. Fresh heard him stammer, “I- I was just going to my room….” but he obediently shuffled back into the living room, leaving his room door still cracked. "What have I said about staying and listening when I’m talking to you?!“ The voice said. "Sorry Father…” Decs replied. The voices quieted down a bit after that, but they were still arguing.

Fresh paused at the window, then decided to just climb in. When Deccy got back they could play- kid looked like he could use some cheering up anyways. It wasn’t like he hadn’t stayed in there waiting for Decs before, so it shouldn’t be a problem, right?

He heaved himself through the window, and looked around the room. Looked the same as always, the mostly-clean state Decs kept it in. The lego-model-building was still set up, still unfinished. Fresh toyed with the idea of tinkering with it, but quickly dismissed it. It would be pretty un-rad to mess with his friends stuff when he wasn’t there.

Instead, he got out a book he’d been reading by himself anyways. Decs wouldn’t mind, and it would keep him occupied.

Fresh tried to focus on the book, but the argument outside kept bleeding through the cracked door. Fresh eventually grunted, and got up to fully close it. But when he was by the door, he paused at what was being said…

“Hurt AGAIN! Every week it’s the same story! "I was playing outside and fell” “I was with my friend and got hurt” Accidents you say. Bullshit! You aren’t careful, you never think! Is there a brain in that empty, worthless head of yours? You always get hurt, you run us into the ground! I’ve had to work overtime for months now to try and pay for your- your- IDIOCY! And you!“ his voice turned, and he continued. "You just let him! You don’t care a damn do you, that  _ **I**_ work day and night to provide for this useless son of yours, and you just let him go and hurt himself! Do your damn job, woman, and keep  _safe_! I’m not going to keep funding your stupidity, or his!”

Fresh froze when the speech stared, his mind not quite comprehending what he was hearing. He understood the words, but not  _why_.  _Why_  was Decans father yelling at him?  _Why_  was he being so nasty, so cruel?  _Why_  was his buddy just- standing there- not moving? For Fresh could see Deccy- he was standing as far form his father as he could, trembling, his eyes glued to the floor. He didn’t say a word, didn’t even attempt to defend himself. Fresh could udnerstand respecting your parents and all that, but this? This… didn’t make sense.

Fresh could feel his mind going faster and faster, trying to comprehend the situation and  _why_  it was happening. He tried to force himself to calm down, but it wasn’t working. He didn't  _get_  it, he  _didn’t get it Why was this happening? Deccy hadn’t done anything wrong!_

As Fresh tried to think, Decans father swapped his target from the kid to his wife. They started fighting- about money, what he did/she did, your fault/your fault/your fault, arguing like children over who had broken a toy. Deccy cowered down, trying to endure the fight and not draw any more attention to himself, to wait till he could escape. He wanted to leave… he wanted to go play with Fresh… he didn’t want Fresh to see this.  _He didn’t want Fresh-_

What would he think this was a mess this was awful of god what if he never came back what if he- he blamed deccy- what if what if  _what it_ -

Deccy’s mind raced, his breathing starting to get ragged and too fast. Some part of him knew he was hyperventilating, but that part wasn’t in control. A miasma of doubt had overtaken his mind, not stopping, only getting more cloying and choking the more his parents argued, the more he thought about  _everything that could go wrong…_

Deccy wasn’t even aware that he started to cough, his racing heart going too fast for his breathing to keep up, the irregular beat choking him and making his fear  _worse_  every second.

He didn’t notice, but Fresh did. Once he heard Deccy start coughing, his head snapped up and things cleared a little. He needed to help his friend. Without thinking it through, Fresh shoved open the door and raced over to Deccy.

“Deccy, brah, you okay? Breathe man, come on, get it together. You need somethin? Glass of water? Talk to me brah, what’s wrong? What can I do?”

Fresh rubbed the Deccy’s back rhythmically, trying to calm down his coughing, which seemed a little effective. Deccy started to breathe a little, still coughing occasionally, and he had turned his head. Fresh followed his gaze and saw- his parents.

Deccys’ parents stared at the neon skeleton like he was an alien, momentarily too shocked to say anything. But after a second, they composed themselves enough to ask-

“What the  _hell_  are you doing here? Get out, kid- OUT!” Deccys father yelling, pointing at the door.

Fresh looked between his friend and the dad. Deccy was still shaking and looked terrified, but his father was red in the face with anger. 

“Bro, whatcha want me to do?” Fresh whispered to Deccy, temporarily ignoring the irate adult.

“Didn’t you HEAR me kid? GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!” The father said, stepping closer to Fresh as though he’d throw him out himself.

“ _Get out of here Fresh_ ,” Deccy whispered, “ _I don’t want you here_. Please, just go, leave…”

Fresh stared at him for a second, not quite comprehending what Dec was saying. Had he… messed up? He just wanted to help his friend. But if that’s what he wanted…. he nodded. “Okay brah, whateva ya want.”

He turned to the father and said, “Sorry for intrudin sir, didn’t mean to cause trouble. I’s just worried bout my friend. I’ll go,” and with that he started walking out. 

“Wait kid,” he said, “How the hell did you get  _in here?_ ” _  
_

Fresh paused. It was totally unrad to lie, but… Decs might get in trouble if he was totally honest. “Front door’s open brah,” he replied, before walking out of said-unlocked door. He could heard the father started to call something else out, but Fresh just walked away. He picked up his skateboard and went back to his house. He seemed almost paralyzed now. Dec… didn’t want him there… what was he… what could he have done…?

____________________________________________________________________________

The next day, Fresh walked back over to Deccys window. He wanted to see if his little friend was okay after the blow-up yesterday. But he saw to his surprise that Deccys window was closed… and locked from the outside. 

Confused, Fresh walked up to it. Ya, the window was sealed tight- no way he was getting it open, or Deccys either. Fresh looked through it, trying to see his friend. His friend was sitting on the floor, absently tinkering with his project. 

Fresh tentatively knocked on the window, flashing Deccy his widest smile. Deccy up at him, then his eyes widened, turning even more yellow than they had been. He went over to the window, saying, “Fresh, get outta here, you’re going to get me in trouble… if my parents  _see you_ … they'll  _kill_ me! I got in so much trouble yesterday… please… leave Fresh…”

Fresh couldn’t hear Deccy clearly through the glass, but he could read his expression. Deccy looked scared… he kept looking to the side, towards his door, as though he expected someone to walk in at any second. He did catch the ‘leave Fresh’ part though. His grin faded, and he said, “Are ya sure brah? I’ll be careful this time. We could read, or-”

He cut off when he saw Deccy violently shaking his head. “No Fresh please, I don’t want to get yelled at again… I can’t… I can’t- you shouldn’t have seen it, you shouldn’t-”

“Brah. BRAH.” Fresh said, knocking on the window to stop Deccy’s from spiraling anymore. “You  _know_  I don’t care. So ya folks are unrad. No biggie to me. Won’t make me think any diff about ya brah. So don’t freak out on that regard, got it?”

Deccy looked at Fresh while he was talking, but he didn’t look sure.

He didn’t say anything back, so after a moment, Fresh sighed and said, “Kay brah, if me being here stresses ya, then I’ll skedaddle on home. We’ll hang when your ready, cool?”

Deccy nodded slightly, so Fresh took it and walked away. 

He didn’t- why was Deccy  _scared_  of being around him- it wasn’t right, it wasn’t-  _  
_

Fresh shook his head to break himself out of that thought train. He’d come back, till Deccy felt safe enough to hang with him again. He wouldn’t just leave his little friend hanging. But he’d learned his lesson.

Next time, he wouldn’t interfere.

 


	14. Brothers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Decans is drifting... drifting...
> 
> Warnings: suicidal idealization, child abuse
> 
> Characters: Decans, Fresh, Geno, Error, CQ (all from Mommacq by alainaprana)

He was drifting, drifting, drifting along; ignorant of sound, ignorant of light. He knew nothing about where he was, or even who he was. It all seemed so distant, so disconnected from himself. It was like he was just a soul floating in the void, a soul slowly flickering, flickering out.

That’s what he realized first. His soul, his very being, was flickering, fading. It wanted to flicker out, to finally grow dim. He realized this with some sorrow, but mostly- what was it? Relief? No, that wasn’t quite it. Contentment? No, not at all. 

Surrender. Yes, that had the ring of true. Something that would happen, whether he wished it to or not. Though he didn’t particularly wish either way.

Gradually, though, the void was interrupted by flashes of light, of sound. Something, or  _someone_ , was there, trying to break through.

“…come on….”

“….make it….”

“…have to….”

“Deccy….”

Deccy. Yes. Decans. That was his name. He was Decans. And who…?  
  


“Come on, brah…”

Yes. Fresh. His… best friend….

Fresh wouldn’t let him go.

 

Deccy could sense him, off and on, in the haze. The pressure of Fresh’s hand on his, light but concrete, like he wouldn’t, or couldn’t, let go. But there was something more.

He felt like he could  _see_  his soul, something. It was a flickering, fading heart, barely formed, barely  _there_. Broken. 

That’s what they always said. A broken soul. A broken family.

Unwillingly, unwantedly, the memories returned- shouts, curses. Useless. Worthless. Freak. Pathetic. Disgusting.

Broken. 

 

Deccy cried, though he was unaware of it, cried and tried to move away from the sounds, but he couldn’t- he couldn’t even breathe. His soul flickering, shuttered- no, it was too much, go away!

 

Then he felt it again. The light.

 

Or whatever it really was.

[READ-MORE]

It was this strange purple glow that seemed to surround him, at times. It was this light, this glow, that wouldn’t let him leave. Wouldn’t let him just slip away. Let him sleep.

He wanted to will the light away- the pain was too great, couldn’t he just rest? Just sleep? The long sleep, free of pain, free of dreams. Free. He’d finally be free.

But the light resisted. Urged him to go on.

He couldn’t refuse the light, nor wanted to. It felt too warm, too close; to be treated so. It was like…

Like the love he never had.

It wasn’t love. And he realized before he realized he did that the light was Fresh. His buddy, his friend.

 

His brother.

 

Well, he might as well be Deccy’s brother.

 

Part of Deccy knew Fresh didn’t care. But he didn’t give up, either. Deccy couldn’t understand. Why was Fresh trying so hard? Why did it matter to him? He didn’t care, he couldn’t care. Just like…

His father….

The memories returned again, shouts, threats, and finally, blows. Deccy cried, whimpered in his sleep. And again Fresh spoke.

“Ya gotta hang on Deccy-dec! Ya gotta hang on!”

 

He faded out again, and Deccy was left confused. Why did he care? His own father didn’t, not really. Deccy was just a burden, a trial. A source of argument and contention in household.

It would be better if he didn’t exist, right?

He didn’t really believe that, didn’t really accept that. But somewhere deep in his soul, in the darkest and most hurt part, he wondered.

Would it be better…. if he’d never existed?

 

His soul flickered, again. Faded. Faded out, for one second. But before Deccy slipped away, he felt a surge- the light again. Fresh. 

“Brah? Brah! Hang in there! Come on Deccy, don’t leave me!”

Leave him?

Leave Fresh….

No

He didn’t want to do that…

 

He willed himself back. His soul flickered, faintly, but it was there. He heard, he thought, Fresh give a sigh of relief, though it seemed shuttering, choked.

And maybe he imaged it, but he thought he heard, “I don’t want to lose you brah…”

Lose…. him….?

But why… why did Fresh…. care….?

Deccy wondered, as he drifted on and on in the endless void.

 

Voices drifted in, every now and again. Ever-present was Fresh, his voice, his soul. He never left. But sometimes, others came.

“Decans… I know it’s hard… but you gotta come back… you can do it… I know…. I know it hurts… but please….”

…who was….

Oh… it was…. Geno….

 

And sometimes, a glitchy voice, hard to hear, harder to understand, as the voice was thick with tears- “Don’t you dare leave! Don’t- don’t you- dare!” broken off, always broken off. 

Error….

 

And sometimes, rarely, a soft voice. A kind voice. His mother…? No…  _their_  mother…. 

“I know it hurts sweetie… I know it’s hard… but please… come back to us…. come back, Decans….”

Why…. why…. did they…. care….?

He knew he was Fresh’s friend… but why….?

….his own family didn’t want him….

…at least, he worried they didn’t… he didn’t believe it…but…

 

The images intervened. His father, face red with rage. His mother, frightened… hurt…. yes, she was hurt, too…. the blows… the fists…. smashing into his skull, his chest….

He squirmed, cried, tried to dodge the attack, but he couldn’t, he couldn’t, it was a memory,  _he couldn’t escape…._

 

“Brah. Brah! Wake up! It’s just a bad dream! ….Deccy bro…. wake up….please bro…. wake up…”

Was Fresh…. sad? No…. he couldn’t be. But he sounded…. like he missed his best friend. 

His ‘bro’

…his brother…

…he was their brother….

…that’s why they cared….

 

Decans drifted. But not down, down, as he had been. He drifted… up. Towards the light. The glowing purple light that was always there, always there. Fresh had always been there, hadn’t he? Supporting Deccy… making him laugh… teaching him things… being… well….

like a big bro to him.

…they were just friends….

…no….

…they weren’t.

 

Perhaps they started that way. Perhaps they would have remained that way. But things had happened, things had changed. And now….

Deccy couldn’t really imagine life without Fresh in it.

And from the sound of it… the neon skelly couldn’t really, or didn’t want to, imagine life without his little buddy.

 

His little bro.

 

Deccy drifted up, and broke the surface of the dark, dark sea he’d be adrift in. He blinked open his eyes, and saw… Fresh. Sitting by his side, holding his hand- looking like he’d been there a long, long time.

 

“F…. fr…” Deccy tried to say, but he couldn’t gather the strength. His entire body ached, and his soul hurt worst of all. It felt like he’d dust in a second. But…

When he simply breathed out, Fresh jerked his head up. He had his glasses off for once- they’d fallen in his lap. His gaze was the same as always, but Deccy thought he saw something flickering, flickering there.

 

Hope.

 

“Deccy? DECCY! You’re awake! Brah, you’re awake!” Fresh shouted, jumping up. He immediately hugged Deccy, being careful, so careful, not to hurt Deccy’s still-broken, still-healing bones. But he hugged him like he’d never let go.

“F… fr….” Deccy tried again, but he couldn’t speak, he was too weak. Fresh just shook his head, “Save ya strength brah, you’re still healing, you’re still weak.”

 

The door burst open and Error ran in, stopping when he saw Fresh hugging Deccy- and Decans awake. He paused, mouth open, then turned to shout out the door- “He’s awake!”

More footsteps- slower this time. Geno walked in, walked over to Deccy’s other side. He smiled down at him. “Knew you could make it,” he said softly. 

CQ followed and stood beside Geno, gently stroking Deccy’s skull. “Welcome back, Decans” she said with a soft smile.

Error hung back, but he looked relieved- the eternal tension in his body eased a little, the glitches less they had been a minute ago. It was finally over.

 

And always, always, Fresh was there, holding Deccy like he’d never let go. Quietly, so that only Deccy heard- so quietly Deccy wasn’t sure he meant to say it at all- “dun know what’d I do without you bro.”

Deccy looked at all of them, and tried to speak but still couldn’t. His heart felt like it would burst, and wanted to say it, but his eyes said it all.

 

They were pure blue.


	15. Choice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fandom: MommaCQ
> 
> Characters: Fresh, Deccy, Geno, Error (Mommacq), unnamed god
> 
> Rating: PG for threatened child death

In a place both eons away and yet close as a breathe there was a midnight-dark room. For a time that seemed forever it lay still, dormant, empty of even light.

Then, slowly, an image started to take form. It was that of a young skeleton, with zig-zag neon pajamas and staring, empty eyes. This skeleton looked around the world he now found himself in, and said half-muttering, "Strange dream brah..."

 

His gaze met nothing for a long few minutes. Then the silence was broken by a shriek as another skeletal boy fell with a thud into the fall, his red pajamas easier to see against the darkness then his black bones. The boy looked up, eyes filled with ERRORs and snarled, "What the FUNK is going on?!"

"Error brah, language," the neon skeleton said calmly, walking over to where Error lay and reaching down a hand. 

"Oh shut up Fresh," Error said with a side-glare, pointedly ignoring the offered hand and struggling to hands and knees, before pushing himself up to his feet.

 

Once Error's eyes returned to their normal yellow-red state, he looked around the dark abyss he found himself in, and grunted noncommittally.  Then he tilted his head and raised a hand, his loose pajama sleeve falling around his shoulder.  From his palm blue strings erupted, and as he swung his arm down they shot forward fifty feet before hitting an invisible wall. "Huh," Error said, dissipating the strings. "So it's a room."

"Seems that way brah," Fresh said from right behind Error, making him jump and whirl around.

"Don't  _do_  that DIRTbag!" he shouted, voice taking on a raspy, distorted quality.

 

"Don't fight you two," a gentle voice said, and the boys whirled around to spot a third skeleton wearing simple yellow pajamas and clutching a pink plushie. 

"Geno!" Error cried, stumble-running over to the other boy. "Whatya doing here?!"he said, skidding to a stop before knocking Geno over.

"Brah why any of us here?" Fresh said, walking over slowly to join the other two. "Seems strange huh."

 

Then Fresh paused and looked to the side as another image started to shimmer into existence. "Deccy-dec?" he said as the form took shape.

Appearing from the void was a small skeleton, hunched up in his too-large jammies and looking around warily. Then his face melted into relief when he spotted the neon child. "Fresh!" he cried, running over to him and nearly tripping on his sweatpant's too-long fabric.

"Whoa brah, be careful!" Fresh said, dashing over and catching Deccy before he fell. "Dun go all fallin' on me! Who know wha' thatda do here!"

"R-right! Sorry..." Deccy said, looking up at Fresh with a small smile on his face.

 

Then all of them jumped as a voice boomed,  **"** **Good. Now that everyone is here, we will begin. Fir-"**

"Who the FUNK are you!" Error called, looking around wildly for the source of the noise that seemed to come from all around him. "Show yourself DIRTbag!"

"Error, calm down..." Geno said gently, but even as he said it, he clenched his plushie just a little bit tighter.

"Ya brah, no ne-" 

 

 **"SILENCE!"** the voice roared, loud enough to shake the floor. The boys all clasped their hands over their ear-holes, useless as that was.

"Brah, there no need to shou-" Fresh began, but suddenly his words cut off as his mouth popped out of existence. His eye-sockets widened and he raised his hands to where his teeth should be, feeling only smooth bone in their place.

"Hey, you leave him alone!" Error shouted, stepping forward with hands clenched at his side. "Only I tel-" And then his mouth disappeared too. Error blinked, and tried to scream in rage- but not a sound came out. With eyes starting to ERROR over, he shot his strings up at the sky... only for them to hit the ceiling high above.

 

 **"If you will not be silent, I will obliterate all four of you!"** the voice thundered, causing the boys to shake in fear and snap their mouths shut.

 

After a few minutes of silence, during which the kids all drew close together in a huddle, the voice spoke again.

 **"All four of you have an affliction plaguing you, making your life miserable."** Fresh raised a hand at that, but the voice ignored him. 

 **"You have been brought here to make a choice. From all four of you choose one to be cured of his affliction- let me finish!"** the voice said sharply as Fresh, Error, and Deccy all pointed at Geno instantly- then dropped their hands as the ground rumbled in warning.

  **"AS I WAS SAYING. Choose one to be cured, and choose wisely- for the other three will be killed."**

 

The silence that followed was deafening, as all the boys froze, eyes growing wider and wider as they realized  _exactly_  what that meant. But before anyone could speak, from the floor walls shot up between the four boys, separating them into different rooms. 

Error immediately tried pounding on the wall but it wouldn't budge. Decans tried to call out for Fresh, Geno,  _anyone,_ but the walls were sound-proof as well as dark. As for Geno and Fresh, the former was simply struck still with shock, and the other just narrowed his eyes at the ceiling.

 

The god ignored them all and said, **"You have ten minutes to decide, after which I will ask for the name of the boy to be saved. I await your decision."**

 

 

All alone in their dark rooms, the boys fell into thought . . .

 

* * *

Fresh rubbed his nearly-returned mouth and jaw and muttered, "Totes unrad to steal somebros face ya know..."

He looked around the area, his eyes looking for any deviation in the pure blackness. Then he raised a glowing purple hand, and made a movement as though he was tearing a hole in space.

 

Nothing happened.

 

Slowly, he dropped his hand and said, "Drat. Suppose the only  possible way out of this big mess is to made that totes unrad decision. Hmm...."

He looked down and rubbed his chin, thinking intently. When the question first came, the choice had been reflexive. Geno-brah had an incurable soul, just made sense to pick 'im. But now that only one would remain... "Be totes unrad to die like this . . . " Fresh muttered, still thinking...

 

* * *

"Come on, let us the fck out of here!!" Error shouted, pounding into the wall with his fists. He took a deep breathe and backed up, then with an animistic half-scream charged forward, hitting the wall hard with his shoulder-

 and bouncing back from the force of the impact. "Fck off wall," he muttered, rubbing his nearly-broken arm and wincing.

 

He stared moodily at the wall, and sunk to the floor with a half-growl, hunching over to rest his chin on his knees. "Stupid choice," he muttered into his pajama fabric. "Stupid dream. Stupid voice. Stupid- STUPID!" he cried, waving his arms widely in frustration. "Why us, huh? Why the FCK did you pick US!?"

 

The voice in the sky, of course, ignored him, and after a minute Error went back to brooding.

 

"Geno. 'course it's gotta be Geno," he muttered, looking to the side at the floor. Then  he blinked rapidly as tears suddenly started to form, and whimpered, "I dun wanna die..."

 

* * *

Geno stood still for a long time, just blinking owlishly at the darkness around him.

 

He was grateful, of course, that the others had chosen him... he almost teared up at how immediately they all, even Decans, had picked him... but...

 

"They're... they're too nice..." he said, voice a little choked up. "B-but!" he said, straightening up. "I- I won't let them! I won't let them..." he said, dropping his head. He had dropped his plushie earlier, and now he wandered over and picked it up absently, hugging the pink-and-white egg creature tightly. "I won't let anyone die for me..." he whispered, burying his head in the plushie's soft fur.

* * *

"F-fresh!" Decans cried in a thin voice, weakly hitting the walls. "Error! Geno! Someone! Answer me!!"

 

But nobody did.

 

Decans slid down the wall until he was a ball on the floor. "I don't want to die... I don't want to die... I don't..." he sniffled, voice breaking. "Wake up... wake up... wake up!!!" he cried, squeezing his eyes shut and hoping against hope that when he opened them, they'd all be free....

* * *

The god hovered above it all and looked down at the four children in their little boxes, and smiled. "Choose, choose, you have to choose," it muttered. "Ah, but what will they choose?

"Will the emotionless one act in self-preservation and choose himself?

"Will the impulsive one follow his heart?

"Will the generous one be able to pick?

"Will the scared boy want to save his own skin?

"Whichever, it will be a treat to watch them all destroy each other..." it said with a cackle.

 

* * *

Finally, the ten minutes were up. 

As quickly as the walls went up they crashed down, leaving the four boys all staring at each other for a second, before Error ran over to Geno and Deccy to Fresh. But before they could be happy...

 

 **"Choose."**  

A knife appeared, floating in the center of the group, which the boys looked at with big eyes. 

**"And whoever is picked shall kill the other three."**

 

The boys blinked, stared at each other, and all opened their mouths to say...

 

"No one."

 

It was the god's turn to freeze.  **"No one?"**  it said, the words slipping out without a thought.

 

"No one brah," Fresh said, crossing his arms. "Ain't none of us gunna die today."

"Ya! So suck it you big DONG!" Error cried, glaring up at the ceiling and sticking out his tongue.

Geno and Deccy remained quiet, but nodded their agreement at Fresh's words- even if not to Error's.

 

The god was flummoxed. It hadn't expected  _no_  answer.  **"You must choose,"**  it said, but it's once-commanding voice now sounded a little uncertain.

"Nah brah, we dun haveta," Fresh said. "This is just a wicked bad dream ain't it? Just gotta wait it out."

"We choose no one," Geno said softly, smiling at the others. "T- thank you for not choosing me, I, I-"

"Course we didn't!" Error said gruffly. "We aren't leaving you alone to cry!"

"M-mom will come s-soon and wake me up..." Decans muttered, eyes still transfixed by the knife. "R-right?"

"Right brah," Fresh said, grabbing Deccy's hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. Decans looked over at him and smiled.

 

 **"I ORDER you to choose someone!"**  the voice cried, but the others just looked at each other and shook their heads. 

"Naaahhhh," said the group, looking up at the sky and sticking out their tongues, then laughing at how silly they were being, for a moment being just care-free little kids.

 

The god stared at them, eyes bulging. This wasn't- they were suppose to tear each others throats out! Why weren't they?! Everyone had before!!

 

Then, in the far, far distance, an alarm beeped. Fresh smiled broadly, genuinely. "Sounds like ma alarm brahs. Catcha on the flip-side!" he said, giving a wave as his form slowly disappeared.

Decans heaved a huge sigh of relief, then started to laugh in relief.. "It's just a dream! Just a bad dream," he said, rubbing a yellow tear from his equally-yellow eyes. Then he looked up with a jolt as a voice called "DeCANS!"

"Sounds like you're leaving," Geno said with a smile. He winked his good eye and said, "Head over after breakfast, if ya can." Decans nodded as he faded out of existence.

"Brah! Brah! Wake up brah!" Fresh's voice called in the darkness, and Error popped away with a cry.

 

Geno chuckled. "Just you and me," he said, looking up at the sky with a soft smile. He shook his head and said, "Of course we couldn't choose. We couldn't leave one of us alone, forever. Better to risk us all dying, then let someone be alone."

 

The god just growled down at the boy as he slowly faded away.  **"I should kill all four of you for that,"**  it muttered to itself.  **"Fine. Be goody-goodies. See if I care."**

 

And with that, the black box went silent, again. And in the waking world, the boys reunited with a cheer...


	16. Fresh Got Emotions and Error's Having None of It

"Why can't you just BE NORMAL?!?!" Error screams, voice nearly incomprehensible from glitches. 

Fresh flinches back and clutches his chest as his heart-rate sped up. "Error-brah--" he starts, but his brother cuts him off.

"Don't 'Error-brah' me!" he shouts. "What the FUNK is wrong with you!?" he shouts, lunging forward to grab Fresh by the shirt, but with how badly his eyes were glitched he missed as Fresh side-stepped.

"Error, calm down brah!" Fresh cries, feeling a stab of ice run through him--guilt? Panic? Sympathy? He didn't know.

"Calm--ARE YOU SERIOUS?!" Error screams, spinning around to try and face Fresh. "You--you--YOU'RE HORRIBLE!" he shouts, lunging forward again, fist wound back.

Panic freezes Fresh, but Error misses all the same, tripping over the carpet and face-planting. 

 

Error screams in frustration as he lays on the floor, then finally gets up and says, "Stand STILL!"

"I am brah--" Fresh starts, but Error once again cuts him off.

"You--AGH! YOU JUST DON'T GET IT!" Error shrieks, grabbing his skull. "YOU--YOU--FREAK!"

Fresh felt something in his soul twinge--Error had always called him a freak, of course, but now . . . . 

 

He'd never seen Error look so furious--and wait, why was he crying?!

Before his brain could kick in, Fresh found himself next to Error asking, "Brah, brah, what's  _wrong?"_

"What's wrong. WHAT'S WRONG?!" Error screams, "YOU--EVEN YOU AREN'T THAT DUMB!" he says, attempting to punch Fresh again and only missing cause Fresh jumped to the side. "OH NOW YOU MOVE YOU FREAK?!"

 

Fresh couldn't remember ever feeling more confused in his life. Why was Error angry?! He was always angry, yes, but--he seemed more angry than usually.

"Dude, what's  _wrong?"_  Fresh asks, honest concern--and a lot of fear--in his voice.

Error turns to face his voice and just-- _glares_ \--at Fresh. "STOP PRETENDING LIKE YOU CARE!" he screams, balling his fists as tears came to his eyes. "I KNOW YOU DON'T! SO STOP IT!"

"Brah, I--I--I do now . . . " Fresh says, rubbing his arm and looking away at the TV playing some movie with so much gore it made Fresh's stomach twist. Where  _had_ Uncle Asy gone anyways?

 

Error oddly didn't take the distraction to swing at Fresh again, instead visibly vibrating from rage. "No. No you don't  _GET_  to care  _NOW!"_  Error screams, throwing his arms up. "You NEVER cared!  You said you COULDN'T! But now you do for that--that--FREAK?" Error shouts, violently motioning towards Decan's house.

Fresh felt something cold grip his soul. "Deccy-dec isn't a freak, bro," he says quietly, coldly.

"But he isn't GENO!" Error retorts. "He isn't your BROTHER!  _ **SO YOU DON'T GET TO CARE!"**_

 

Error lets out an unholy shriek and launches himself at Fresh, bowling his younger brother over and sending them hurtling to the floor. Error raises a fist and slams it into Fresh's face. "You. Don't. Get. To. Care. Now!" Error screamed, punctuating his words with his fist. Fresh just stared wide-eyed up at Error, far too shocked to really register the pain--besides, Error wasn't hitting  _that_  hard. 

Not like before.

Wai--no--no no no, don't think--Fresh cried out and squeezed his eyes shut as the scene flashed back--Error, shouting, punching, falling, falling, falling . . . .

 

Fresh let's out a whimper and starts to cry, and Error pauses. "Why the funk are you crying?!" he demands, slapping Fresh across the face. "Stop it! Stop crying! Stop it stop it stop it!!" he says over and over, slapping Fresh's skull back and forth, but finally gives up with a loud hiccup as his own tears come.

Fresh was too lost in his own pain to notice Error crying or what he was saying. "I just want Geno back," he sobs. "What if he doesn't come back?! I'd be stuck with this  _FREAK!"_  he cries, glaring at Fresh for all of half a second before the tears and glitches blinded him again. 

 

Error leaned his head down and hugged himself tightly, sobbing his heart out. "Geno . . . Geno . . . I want my brother!" he cries, shaking.

Something in Fresh seemed to click, and he forced himself to open his eyes and look at Error, though his breathing was still wildly out of control. "Brah, brah, Geno will come back--" 

"YOU DON'T KNOW THAT!" Error screams, uselessly flailing his arms as he couldn't see a thing. "You don't KNOW that! He could die today--tomorrow--next week--and  _YOU WOULDN'T CARE AT ALL IF NOT FOR THAT FUNKING KID!"_ Error screams, slamming his fists down on Fresh's chest. "Don't you GET it?!" he screams. "I'd be ALONE if not for Decans, and that's  _wrong!_  That's  _WRONG!!_   _GENO_  is our brother, not him! So why do you only care about him?!?!" he shouts.

 

Fresh flinches back even as Error grows still, waiting for an answer.  "I--I--I--" he stutters, his brain too clouded with pain and fear and sadness and  _guilt--_

 _"I'm sorry,"_  he finally manages, and Error recoils as though from a blow. 

"NO YOU AREN'T! YOU NEVER ARE!" Error screams. "SO STOP  _LYING!_ "

"I don't lie brah!" Fresh replies hotly. "I  _am_  sorry! I don't--hurting people is unrad!"

 

Error screams in frustration at that and grabs his head. "No no NO YOU MORON! THAT'S--HOW STUPID ARE YOU?!" he screams, glaring in Fresh's general direction.

"Pretty stupid if I can't help ma brah," Fresh replies blankly. 

Error just glares. "You can say THAT again."

"I'm pretty dang stupid," Fresh replies as Error huffs. "No, srsly brah, how stupid am I if I can't figure out why ya mad."

 

Error gives him the biggest "are you serious" look, then finally says deadpan, "You. Started caring. About someone besides Geno. You  _TRAITOR!"_ he suddenly screams, lunging over to grab Fresh by the throat. He squeezed, hard, as Fresh tried to suck in breath and finding he couldn't.

"WHAT if Geno DIED, HUH?!" Error shouts, squeezing, ignoring the little desperate noises Fresh kept making. "Would THAT make you CARE? Yes? TOO BAD! It's too LATE! You left me, left me to worry, to care, to scream, while you just LIVED LIFE LIKE EVERYTHING WAS OKAY," Error shrieks, finally removing his hands to slam them into the ground by Fresh's head. "Do you GET IT NOW?!" he screams, tears beading in his eyes again even as the glitches left him blind.

 

Fresh blinked rapidly, trying to process, trying to understand, but he couldn't, the pain, the  _fear_ , he'd nearly died he'd nearly died--

His breath catches as he starts to hyper-ventilate, his vision starting to go starry. "Pl-plea-please s-stop," Fresh gasped, trying and failing to regulate his out-of-control body. He felt tears on his skull--when had those started?--"P-please, I'm sorry, I'm  _sorry!"_  Fresh cries, squeezing his eyes shut as he starts to sob himself. "I neva wanted to leave ya brah!" he cries. "I--I'm  _sorry!"_

 

"You should be sorry," Error says darkly. "You  _should_  be  _begging_  me to forgive you!" he declares, getting off of Fresh's chest and standing up. "Now! Beg!" he says, kicking Fresh.

Fresh whimpers and scrambles to his knees. "I'm sorry brah," he says, head bowed, hands clasped. "Sorry I didn't care. Sorry I started to care. Sorry--sorry--that I--that I exis--" he cut off. He couldn't say that, not even to make amends--what was he doing?! The logical side of his brain recognized this was totally un-Fresh, totally  _wrong,_ all of this was  _wrong . . . !_

 

Fresh fell silent and dropped his hands. Error couldn't see to notice, but he noticed Fresh's silence and barked, "Why did you stop?!"

"This is  _wrong_  brah, this isn't  _us!"_  Fresh said, getting to his feet. "You--brah, snap outta it! You dun act like this! This is  _wrong!"_

 _"YOU DON'T THINK I KNOW THAT?!"_ Error screeches back. "All of this is wrong! You, me, this! All of this! You caring! You having feelings! Go back to normal so I can hate you in peace!!" he cried, voice catching with tears.

Fresh blinked and took a step back. "So--wha?" he asked, thinking fast, or best he could given the circumstances. 

 

Error hung his head back and groaned. "You blushing idiot--don't censor it to that word!" he suddenly snaps, jerking his head back to glare at Fresh. "Blood and blush have nothing in common!!"

"Actually brah, a blush is caused by increased blood flow--" Fresh started, but Error just grabbed his face and groaned again.

"No no no! Stop flipping! Stop  _changing!_ _STOP IT!!"_ he cried, shaking his head. "Changes--just go back to normal already!" he snaps,  removing his hands to glare at Fresh. "Let me have my normal life already!!"

"Brah, I thought you  _hated_  how things were and  _wanted_  them to change--" Fresh started, the familiar confusion rising again.

 

"No--no--UGH! You're so STUPID! I'm done. I'm DONE!" Error snaps, stamping away--and right into the wall. "AARRRGGGHHH I CAN'T EVEN WALK BECAUSE OF MY STUPID BROTHER!!!"

Said brother stood watching, bruised and bleeding and having a hard time standing upright himself, and muttered another sorry. 

Error just growled and proceeded to use his hands to make his way to the exit of the living room. 

But before he left, he turned his head in Fresh's general direction and said, "Now clean yourself up before I get in trouble!" 

And with that he left the room.

 

Fresh stood for a long, long time, his head in too much turmoil to even begin to comprehend what just happened--why Error had acted the way he did.

But one question rose above the rest: 

Why had Error stopped?

 

He never stopped voluntarily. Either Geno or Mom or Uncle Asy had to pull him away--so why had he stopped?

Fresh thought and thought and couldn't begin to come up with an answer--but he had to know. Something made it feel like that was important.

He walked upstairs to Error's room and knocked on the door, getting a very predictable "Go away!" screech from Error.

 

Fresh just leaned his skull against the wood and said, "Error. Whycha stop hittin' me? I wasn't defendin' or nuthin', so why . . . ?"

Silence. 

Then Error swung the door open, face utterly deadpan and clear of most of the glitches. "I ain't killin' my brother you rose--uuugghhh come up with a better censor," he groaned, slamming the door shut again.

 

Fresh stood at the door for many moments, somewhat understanding but not entirely. Of course Error-brah wouldn't kill him, Fresh never doubted that for a moment, but . . . . 

"Brah?" he said, and from inside the room Error groaned.

"Go AWAY!" he shouts, and something thuds on the door. Fresh flinches, but stays put. 

"Brah I don't get--" Fresh started.

"Good! Stay like that! Now get OUTTA MY DOORWAY!" Error shouts, throwing something bigger at the door.

 

This time Fresh hops backwards, even as his logical mind knew he was safe. 

 

Eventually he walked away to tend his wounds, though he didn't understand whatsoever . . . 

Same old, same old, he thought. An inkling of an idea flashed in his mind, but then it was gone, as he got in the bathroom and saw how beat up his skull was. "What the heckles Error-brah," Fresh mutters, before getting to work. 

 


End file.
